Ravishing Oblivion
by Janie3
Summary: After a night of betrayal, Stefan and Elena have moved on and put it behind them. But when unexpectedly Damon shows up just as Bonnie comes to visit, will new desires, unwanted lust, and old flames cause conflict between life-long friends?
1. Default Chapter

Title: Ravishing Oblivion  
  
Author: Janie  
  
Email: SwtAzSugar46@aol.com  
  
Rating: R (Language, adult situations, possible explicit sex scenes, and   
  
anything else along the way)  
  
Spoilers: All VD books.  
  
Disclaimers: I do not own LJ Smith's Vampire Diaries or the characters. They   
  
belong solely to her and her publishers...Blah blah blah...I use them only for   
  
entertainments purposed...Etc.  
  
Summary: After a night of betrayal, Stefan and Elena have moved on. But when   
  
unexpectedly Damon shows up just as Bonnie comes to visit, will new desires,   
  
unwanted lust, and old flames cause conflict between life-long friends?   
  
Notes: // Indicate telepathy. ** Indicated italics. This scene takes place 8   
  
years after the 4th book in the original series by LJS and 8 years prior to   
  
where my story is set.  
  
~*~  
  
New York -- 3 years earlier:   
  
    "Ciao, *bella*..To what do I owe this pleasure?" Came a silky soft voice   
  
she recognized all too well.  
  
    Heart dropping into her stomach as the faint Italian accent brushed over   
  
her like silk. Involuntarily, she felt her entire body tense as she sensed the   
  
heat of another body behind her. Picking up a faint whisp of expensive   
  
cologne, her mind swirled with a thousand different emotions; some she'd rather she   
  
forgot. She swallowed thickly past a lump that had seemingly formed out of   
  
nowhere and regained all the dignity she could muster, turning to face the man   
  
who had walked out of her life over 8 years ago on a distant Solstice night.  
  
    "Damon." A curt nod and she allowed for a trace of a smile to form on   
  
crimson lips. "I see you're...taking care of yourself."  
  
    An amused smile flickered across a handsome face, bearing white teeth and   
  
two glinting fangs. A wash of midnight colored hair that shimmered in the   
  
lights of the club was tousled and a strand fell into equally dark eyes, shading   
  
them in a rather sexual way, though she'd rather not admit how her heart raced   
  
at the sight of him in those tight black jeans and sweater, that familiar   
  
leather jacket (though not the original; she had that one) completing the look.   
  
Sensual mouth curving into a slight smirk.  
  
    "*Si*. And you, if I may say, look lovely this evening, Elena." Dark eyes   
  
glimmered with amusement and something else she couldn't quite put her finger   
  
on.  
  
   Elena was quick with her tongue and replied stiffly, "I don't want your   
  
flattery. I became unsusceptible to your charms long ago." Fighting off feelings   
  
she'd thought she'd discarded long ago but that had evidently returned to   
  
haunt her, as those black eyes boldly scanned her body, which she knew was rather   
  
revealed in her tight red dress, straps criss-crossing over her bare back,   
  
the front dipping dangerously low allowing for quite an amount of pale skin and   
  
supple curves to be seen. The fabric was clingy to her hips and the flatness   
  
of her stomach, allowing for an imagination to fill in any blanks. She had   
  
come dressed as she presumed others at a flashy club would be, and to her   
  
current knowledge as her eyes surveyed the room, she had not underestimated.   
  
   "Is that so?"  
  
    Normally, one wouldn't find her here, at such a place; however, after an   
  
unaccustomed fight with Stefan, Elena, feeling overcome with stress and the   
  
need to be free of what felt like suffocation in their penthouse, had decided   
  
what better place to rid herself of tension but a club where she could dance off   
  
any anger. If Stefan knew where she'd gone, he'd probably be rather   
  
unenthusiastic, especially with her attire. She was used to eager come-hither looks from   
  
men around the city, and Stefan would be jealous if he wasn't there to make   
  
sure they knew her heart was not available, let alone her body. And she never   
  
minded in the least.  
  
    Except tonight she'd wanted to be alone. Not that a club was where she   
  
could exactly be "alone" per say, but she wasn't with him and that was all she   
  
needed for the time being. Her own time, her own life. Just for the night.  
  
    Blue eyes framed with thick, dark lashes, met his. "What are you doing   
  
here?"  
  
    "Where are your manners, Elena? As though I have no right to be in New   
  
York." Damon scoffed. "Besides," he chuckled, though the laughter was filled   
  
with more haughtiness than humor, "I own this club."  
  
    Well, as if his prescience hadn't been shock enough, that had certainly   
  
caught her off guard. She made a strangled noise which escaped from parted lips.   
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
    "You heard me correctly, *cara*. This club belongs to me. The very Damon   
  
Salvatore." He was proud of the reaction he had received from her and he was   
  
in no mood to pretend otherwise.  
  
    A slow nod as she let it sink in, registering the words. Lovely. Just   
  
fucking wonderful. The one place she'd chosen to be *alone* was owned by Damon.   
  
"Funny. I never saw you in this part of the city before tonight..."  
  
    "I make my appearances when I please. You probably were just never around   
  
when I happened to be."  
  
    "Pity." She paused and after a minute, added, "Stefan never sensed you,   
  
though."  
  
    A flicker of distaste crossed his face at the mention of his younger   
  
brother. "Yes. Well, I've managed to hide my presence from those I wish to." He   
  
paused for a moment, as though considering and realizing something for the first   
  
time. "Where is he anyway, with you dressed so very sexy and him no where   
  
around? In a club, no less."  
  
    Elena made a face. "Don't be so assuming, Damon. It's not what you think."  
  
    "Oh?"  
  
    "We..." She trailed off, weighing her words carefully. "We had   
  
a...misunderstanding, and I needed to get away for a bit."  
  
    "Pray tell."  
  
    "Frankly, I don't believe it's any of your business, Damon."  
  
    Archly, he replied, "Frankly, I don't give a damn." He grinned, a flash   
  
of teeth again. "Besides, I have other ways than that to get any information   
  
from you, you know."  
  
    An elegant blonde eyebrow lifted in annoyance and she folded her arms   
  
lightly beneath her breasts. "Fine. If you must know, it was over the fact I want   
  
to be changed again."  
  
    "Ah, I knew you'd come around, Elena. And I take it my thickheaded   
  
brother doesn't see the need? Is he so stupid that he'd risk losing you, what, a 3rd   
  
time?"  
  
    Elena felt protective instinct for her husband flare up at his words and   
  
cobalt blue eyes flashed angrily. "He's not stupid! He just...Well..."  
  
    "He just doesn't get it."  
  
    She sighed. "No, I suppose not. I'll die eventually. I tried to explain   
  
the logic to him, but he refused to listen to me."  
  
    Damon was silent for a few moments, the blare of rock music from the   
  
lower level thrumming beneath their feet. It was a bit less noisy on the second   
  
floor where couches lined the walls and a few tables were sporadically located   
  
near the railing that overlooked the dance floor. He looked away and then   
  
retuned his gaze to her, making her feel slightly vulnerable as those black eyes   
  
became heated. "If you were mine, I'd be sure to go to any means necessary to   
  
keep you."   
  
    She didn't reply, not trusting her mouth, and they were silent once   
  
again. This time the silence dragged out a good few minutes.   
  
    "Let me do it."  
  
    "What?" She asked, incredulous.  
  
    "Let me do it. I'll change you, he can't refuse to listen to you if you   
  
go on and do it."  
  
    "I can't...That's not fair."  
  
    "It's your life, Elena. Most only get one, you were allowed two. I highly   
  
doubt you'll be given a third."  
  
      Mouth opened to spit out a nasty response, but she felt all the hatred   
  
she could summon up quickly fade as she realized the truth in his words. It was   
  
the honest, simple truth to the matter. What human had been lucky enough to   
  
get a second chance besides her? And what was to guarantee she'd get a shot at   
  
a third? And he had a point. It was her life. The first time she hadn't been   
  
given a choice in the matter. But now she was ready, and this was her choice.   
  
She wanted to. And if Stefan didn't want her to, well, she didn't care. She   
  
wasn't going to let herself slowly get old with age and have him drift away due   
  
to an uncontrollable wedge that would undoubtedly be thrust between them if she   
  
allowed that. And what of her? She'd be green with envy and jealously at his   
  
eternal youth while she shriveled and grayed with each passing day that was a   
  
step closer to death...  
  
    Lashes dropped and she looked at the floor, gaze on her feet encased in   
  
black heels. She let out a breath, defeated. Elena raised her gaze to him once   
  
more, lifting her chin in an air of control. "I accept."  
  
    Slowly, a smile spread across his lips and Elena's knees quivered and she   
  
had to shift her weight to stop it.  
  
     "Come..."   
  
    He led her through a door that had been hidden, unseen by human eyes,   
  
taking them both into what was apparently a back room with a small sofa, table   
  
and even a bed. He noticed her interest. "I use this when I need a place to   
  
stay. No one here knows about it and it's under tight security."  
  
    A nod, she was distracted by nerves and an overwhelming sensation in her   
  
stomach that she realized was more than she'd previously thought. She was   
  
afraid. But not of crossing the divide between mortality and life as a vampire,   
  
but of herself, being alone with him.  
  
    If he noticed, he didn't remark or make any gesture to show he did.   
  
Instead, he sat her down on the bed and stepped back. "You're sure? You know   
  
there's only one way out if you change your mind later."  
  
    She nodded again, firmer this time. "I know."  
  
    "Alright." He set himself beside her, pushing aside the veil of silky   
  
gold hair to reveal the soft skin of her neck. A fingertip ran lightly down her   
  
neck. She shivered.   
  
    "Relax, Elena. You have to trust me."  
  
    She swallowed thickly; that lump was back in her throat and she felt a   
  
flush spread over her cheeks. "It's not you I'm afraid of..." She whispered.  
  
    Brows raised, black eyes traveled to her lips. "And what are you afraid   
  
of, Elena?" His voice was velvet to her ears, as sensual as if his hands were   
  
brushing over her naked skin.  
  
    "Myself."  
  
    There was no response, at least not verbally, from Damon. His eyes rested   
  
on her lips for a moment more, before his finger lifted to brush over them   
  
softly, feather light, before he looked right into her eyes, holding her gaze.   
  
She knew it was time. Her head pounded.  
  
    He bent his head then, the coolness of his lips a wonderful sensation to   
  
her as they met her neck. Butterfly kisses were placed there, and she felt her   
  
head fall back, eyes closing. One of his arms slipped behind her to support   
  
her weight, the hand of his other rested on her bare thigh, the heat of his   
  
palm seeping into her. A flutter in her belly as his teeth grazed her skin and   
  
then she gasped as they pierced her neck. But the pain was brief before she was   
  
carried by wave after wave of pleasure as he drew her blood. They were   
  
connected now, sharing each other's thoughts and emotions and she knew he was deeply   
  
immersed in her pleasure and his own, high off her blood and the feeling of her.   
  
      
  
    After what felt like an eternity, Elena felt her heartbeat slowing, and   
  
it became painful again. She moaned and tried to pull away, but he held her to   
  
him. /Don't fight it/, came a voice in her head.  
  
    She became dizzy and then everything went black, silent, and void.   
  
Groggily, she opened her eyes after some amount of time she couldn't discern and   
  
felt the warm thickness of blood against her lips. /Drink/  
  
    And she obeyed. Lips parting to receive the liquid, and she thirsted for   
  
it, swallowing quickly, suckling at the neck pressed firmly to her lips, the   
  
scent of him powerful and alluring, until hands pried her back, easing her   
  
down onto the mattress. Her eyes fluttered open partially to gaze up into   
  
beautiful dark depths that loomed above her.   
  
    "Rest," he whispered, brushing blonde whisps off her cheeks.  
  
    She caught his hand with her own, nuzzling into his touch. "Damon..."  
  
    He froze, eyes emblazoned with lust, cheeks flushed by both the rush of   
  
new blood he'd taken and apparent want for her. But he shook his head. "No,   
  
Elena, you're delirious."  
  
    But even as he said the words, he found his eyes locked on hers, drifting   
  
down to the red-tinted lips of hers, down further to the slow rise and fall   
  
of her small breasts beneath the fabric of her dress, one strap had fallen down   
  
off a shoulder. And a split second later his lips were on hers, tasting his   
  
own blood.  
  
    He gave into the softness that was Elena, the heat that was her skin, the   
  
taste that were her lips. Her hands weaved into his hair, and he was drawn   
  
on top of her gently, his own hands gliding over the skin of her shoulders, the   
  
scent of her perfume strong. He felt her tongue as it prodded between his lips   
  
to meet his own and his hands shifted to her chest, and he could feel the   
  
rapid beating of her heart.  
  
    He wanted her.  
  
    Her hands ran down over his back, sliding to the front. Pushing up his   
  
sweater, she had to pull back and break the kiss to deposit his shirt on the   
  
floor. Damon shivered as her hands, cool to the touch, met his bare chest. They   
  
moved downwards to come to a halt at the button to his jeans.  
  
    She wanted him.  
  
    And tonight there was nothing to stop them.  
  
    ***  
  
   New York --  2003  
  
      
  
      
  
    "Welcome to *Incantevole Oblio*."  
  
    "What?"  
  
    A laugh. "Ravishing Oblivion."  
  
    The redhead giggled, despite the fact she was now 28, the girlishness of   
  
her youth had not been too damaged. She toyed with a red curl, brown eyes   
  
turning serious as they focused on the handsome green eyed man before her whom   
  
she'd known a very long time.  
  
    "And how did you acquire such a joint? It's nice."  
  
    "Thank you," He smirked. "Let's just call it an... apology... from my   
  
dear brother and leave it at that, shall we?" He answered, running a hand through   
  
waves of black hair.  
  
    She nodded, though her interest had now peaked 20 notches. Oh well, she'd   
  
get the story out of Elena. "How long have you had it?"  
  
    "Three years."   
  
    Bonnie took a seat at the bar, crossing slender legs one over the other.   
  
Her body donned in a mini skirt, well-sized chest covered with a forest green   
  
blouse that did nothing but accentuate her curves. Stefan had to say that in   
  
all the years he'd known her, she'd been pretty, but now she was nothing short   
  
of stunning with curls that tumbled down over her shoulders and an ample bust,   
  
slim hips and pretty honey-colored eyes.  
  
    Not that he was planning on sleeping with her -- No, unlike his wife, he   
  
believed in monogamy -- but she was attractive. But, then again, that wasn't   
  
quite fair. Elena and him had recently gone through a rough spot, but that was   
  
slowly but surely getting put into the past, and he knew Elena loved him. Shit   
  
happened. Unfortunately, he had had more than his share of it, but Elena had   
  
shown how much she was sorry for ever hurting him and he was sure it wouldn't   
  
happen again.  
  
    Bonnie hadn't seen Stefan or Elena in quite a few years. In fact, a good   
  
6 or 7 years had passed since the time they'd left Fell's Church. After their   
  
wedding and moving to New York, Bonnie hadn't been in their company unless via   
  
the phone or e-mail. It was about time they got together again. She vaguely   
  
remembered Elena mentioning a club being under their ownership now that she   
  
thought of it. Speaking of that, she was going to figure out the story behind it   
  
if she had to hog tie Elena to a chair and force it out of her.  
  
    Brown hues rested on Stefan, studying him. She took in the white sweater   
  
and dark pants, the soft strands of hair that fell in tufts on his head.   
  
Emerald eyes beautiful against his pale face. Well toned body as always, sexy mouth   
  
she envied Elena for being able to kiss -- not to mention the fact she got to   
  
freely touch that sculpted body of his as well...  "It's been a long time.   
  
I've missed you and Elena. You look great." And it was true. She still, even   
  
after all these years, had the instinct to jump the man.  
  
    She hadn't overlooked the way the females, and even some of the males in   
  
the club looked at Stefan Salvatore and she wondered vaguely how Elena felt   
  
about that. But then again, knowing Elena, they probably looked at her the same   
  
way.  
  
    A warm chuckle. "Well, it's not as though I can really change that   
  
much..But thank you. Elena's off feeding, she'll be back shortly"   
  
    "Alright. And you're welcome. I see you've been...keeping in good   
  
health?"   
  
    A nod, and Stefan understood his psychic companion could "feel" the   
  
undercurrent of his strong Power aura. He'd been feeding on humans for the past few   
  
years, especially given the place they lived. "Yes. Elena and I decided it   
  
was best given the circumstances..."  
  
    Bonnie smiled in agreement and with that, somewhere behind them she heard   
  
a shriek of joy. That would be Elena. Stefan smiled as he saw his wife.  
  
    Seconds later, Elena flung her arms around the petite redhead. "BONNIE!   
  
You came! Oh, I missed you, you silly girl -- Shame on you for not visiting   
  
sooner!"  
  
    Bonnie was practically in tears, overcome with emotion at seeing her best   
  
friend in what felt like ages. She drew back to get a better look. "Wow.   
  
Nothing changes, eh? You look amazing, as usual."   
  
    The blonde woman smiled, not even ruffled by the compliment, for she was   
  
used to them. Elena had, Bonnie remembered, once ruled Robert E. Lee once upon   
  
a time as one of the most saught-after girls. Just now, Elena's hair was   
  
swept off her face in an elegant French braid, sparkling blue eyes sublty enhanced   
  
with navy blue eyeliner, but that was the only makeup she wore. Of course,   
  
Elena had never needed much of anything to make her look stunning. Cheeks   
  
flushed pink with excitement. Expensive looking jeans encased shapely legs, on her   
  
feet she wore strappy heels, and a tightly fitted button-down black blouse was   
  
her outfit.   
  
    Bonnie hastily wiped at a few tears and Elena stepped back, grinning.   
  
    "Welcome to New York," Elena replied.  
  
    "It's much busier than Connecticut..."  
  
    Bonnie watched as Elena moved behind the bar to wrap an arm around   
  
Stefan's waist affectionately, resting her head against his shoulder.   
  
    Elena looked at her. "You're staying with us, right? We have plenty of   
  
room in our place."  
  
    "I wouldn't want to put you out, or anything...Or invade your privacy..."   
  
The latter said with a smirk.  
  
    "Don't be ridiculous, Bonnie McCullough!"  
  
    "But--"    
  
    "You're staying and that's final."   
  
    No, nothing changed. Elena was still authorative. But Bonnie smiled,   
  
knowing that was simply Elena Gilbert. Or rather, now Elena Salvatore.  
  
    "Fine, fine." Hands thrown up in defeat, Bonnie laughed softly.   
  
    Stefan threw her an amused look. "If you like, Elena can take you back   
  
now and help you get settled in. I've only got another hour here before I'll   
  
leave it to my assistants to take care of until closing."  
  
    Elena raised elegant brows in question to Bonnie. "Well?"  
  
    "Sure. Sounds good to me. I'm starved...Can we stop and get something to   
  
eat? For me, anyway?"  
  
    "Of course." Elena placed a kiss on her husband's lips and walked out   
  
from behind the bar. "See you at home in an hour, then." He nodded.  
  
    With that, Elena proceeded to lead Bonnie out of the club. As they made   
  
their way down the still busy streets of the city, stores and restaurants still   
  
teeming with night life, Bonnie chuckled. "By the way, Stefan mentioned   
  
something to me earlier...About the club."  
  
    Elena glanced to Bonnie as she motioned to a small pizza place and Bonnie   
  
nodded her okay. "Oh?"  
  
    "I was just wondering what he meant by 'an apology' from Damon." Bonnie's   
  
eyes were wide with curiosity.  
  
    "It was...a gift, I guess. It was Damon's a few years back and he decided   
  
to give ownership over to Stefan. I haven't seen him since then, though I   
  
have spoken to him occasionally when Stefan calls him to speak about...whatever   
  
it is they speak about..." Elena trailed off, unsure of what else to say as she   
  
held open the door to the restaurant.  
  
   Her friend's facial expression was something a bit like wry amusement.   
  
"What is it you're not telling me?"  
  
    "What do you mean?" Elena tried to act nonchalant but her palms were   
  
sweating as she took a seat in a booth in the back and watched as Bonnie slid in   
  
across from her.  
  
    "Oh come off it, Elena. I've known you my whole life. By now I can tell   
  
when you're lying."  
  
    "It's...It's a long story." She bit her lip, feeling surpassingly guilty,   
  
though she didn't know why, since she and Stefan had made their amends.  
  
    Bonnie grinned, leaning forward on her arms. "I've got time."  
  
    Elena flushed, letting out a deep breath. "It happened like this..."  
  
      
  
~*~ 


	2. Part 2

~*~  
  
    "No! That's not fair! You definitely cheated!"  
  
      
  
    "Come again? How can I cheat when you've been watching me the entire   
  
time?"  
  
    The redhead threw down her pile of cards with mock anger. "Don't lie to   
  
me, Stefan Salvatore. I can read your mind, in case you forgot."  
  
    Stefan laughed. Their game had apparently came to an abrupt end. But it   
  
hadn't been so good, anyway, with only two people. There was a noise as someone   
  
entered the room and Stefan looked up to see Elena, grinning.   
  
    "Playing strip poker, *again*, Stefan? I thought I told you to include me   
  
next time!"  
  
   Bonnie giggled and Stefan smirked, beginning to collect the cards and put   
  
them into a neat pile in the center of the glass coffee table. Elena knelt   
  
beside him on the floor and he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close with   
  
a light kiss to the top of her head as she let it fall to his shoulder. To   
  
Bonnie, they looked at peace and content. She envied them a great deal.   
  
    "How's Matt?" Elena suddenly asked, blue eyes resting on her friend   
  
across the table.  
  
    There was the awkward silence from Bonnie, and the previously   
  
light-hearted mood disintegrated. Elena lightly bit her lip, wondering if she had   
  
somehow crossed her bounds.   
  
    "Matt's...good." But the words sounded false and hollow to her ears.   
  
    It didn't get past Elena who replied, "You two broke up, huh?"  
  
    A nod. "He's a good guy, and I'll always love him for the time we had   
  
together, but he just wasn't for me. And I think he knew that deep down."  
  
    "I'm sorry, Bonnie." An apologetic smile from the blonde, and Bonnie   
  
watched as Stefan toyed with a strand of Elena's hair.  
  
    "It's alright. I'm only 28, there's still fish in the sea."   
  
    Stefan nodded his agreement and Elena cleared her throat before another   
  
silence could fall over them once again. She turned to look to her husband.   
  
"I'm going to feed, do you want to come?"  
  
    "I'm fine, I fed earlier today."   
  
    "You sure?"   
  
    Stefan could see the concern in his wife's eyes but he nodded. "Really."  
  
    Bonnie, who had been otherwise quiet and lost in thought, suddenly said,   
  
"Oh, don't not go because of me. I'm a grown woman, I don't need to be babysat   
  
or entertained."  
  
    She watched as a smile formed on Stefan's lips and something flipped in   
  
her stomach and she had to tear her eyes away, blinking. She hoped beyond hope   
  
neither had caught that.  
  
    "I know, but I'm fine, honestly. Elena, you go on without me."  
  
    Elena placed a kiss on his lips and stood, dusting off her pants. "I   
  
won't be long."   
  
    With that, she grabbed her coat from the closet, slipping it on and   
  
tossing her keys into her pocket. Opening the door, she paused, and with amusement   
  
passing over her comely features she said, "And remember, no strip poker until   
  
I get back."  
  
    Bonnie felt herself smiling at her friend, though beneath the friendly   
  
exterior, she was fighting back the urge to blush. Stefan lifted a hand with a   
  
smirk and watched as she shut the door quietly behind her.  
  
    When he glanced back to Bonnie, she looked sheepish, and she sat back   
  
against one of the couches with an "Anyway..." that sounded far too happy to be   
  
sincere to Stefan's ears. One brow lifted and he stood, shrugging off any odd   
  
feeling he felt.   
  
    "I'm going to take a shower. If you need anything, just holler, but I'll   
  
only be a few minutes. There's food in the fridge. Elena went shopping this   
  
morning while you slept."  
  
    She nodded with a genuine smile this time. "Alright, thanks."   
  
    Rising as well, she sat herself down on the black leather couch, eyes   
  
roaming the living room area of the apartment. For the first time she really   
  
studied it. There was an entertainment system in one corner that had probably cost   
  
them a fortune, the floor was marble with a deep, rich red and gold area rug   
  
beneath the glass and oak coffee table. A beautiful and elaborately carved   
  
stone fireplace was in front of her on the opposite wall, which at the moment had   
  
a roaring fire blazing; above it a large oval mirror rested against the crème   
  
colored wall. Tall windows were on one side to her left from which hung heavy   
  
velvet drapes of the same deep red color of the rug and there was another   
  
matching sofa directly across from where she sat and an arm chair to her right.   
  
The room itself was spacious and opulently decorated. Simply beautiful. Elena   
  
and Stefan did nothing to hide their luxury lifestyle.  
  
    Stefan seemed to notice her gaze and smiled. "It's lovely, no?"  
  
    "Yes, very. You two must be very happy here."  
  
    He let out a deep breath, nodding. "Yes, we are. The decorating is mostly   
  
Elena's job, but I helped with some."  
  
    "Well, it came out wonderful. I should have you two do mine." She laughed   
  
shortly, shifting her brown eyes to him.  
  
    Green eyes were warm and the firelight was reflected in them. Bonnie   
  
found herself staring into them, wanting to reach out and touch him...  
  
    *Snap out of it, Bonnie McCullough!* She scolded herself, tearing her   
  
eyes away and desperately hoping Stefan regarded the blush on her pale cheeks as   
  
being due to the warmth of the room.   
  
    Was she turning into Elena? She certainly was thinking awful thoughts...!   
  
She had been shocked at Elena's tale of what had happened 3 years ago, but   
  
knew if death couldn't tear those two apart, a night of betrayal wouldn't  have   
  
done much long-term damage.  
  
    He cleared his throat suddenly. "Yes, well...As I said, I'll be in the   
  
shower. Help yourself to anything you like." He disappeared a moment later,   
  
Bonnie's eyes on his back as he retreated.  
  
    * "Anything" would be too much to ask at the moment...* Bonnie ran a hand   
  
through her curls and took a deep, shaky breath. What was wrong with her?   
  
This was Stefan. *Elena's Stefan*. He was off limits beyond a shadow of doubt.   
  
She had to control herself.  
  
    Her mind was wandering into strange places lately...  
  
***  
  
    In the darkness of an alleyway, one would see the outline of a woman   
  
pressed to that of a man. As Elena stepped back and ran a tongue over her lips,   
  
she looked at the man before her. He groaned and pressed a hand to his temple,   
  
seemingly disorientated.   
  
    "Go," she replied, voice throaty but still sensual.  
  
      
  
    "Uh...Alright...?" The man shook his head, looking around as though he   
  
had no idea how he had gotten there or who she was. Good. He shouldn't.  
  
    Elena watched as he walked off, muttering about the strangeness of this   
  
city and how his grandmother had been right about full moons...  
  
    She chuckled to herself and thrust her hands into her coat pocket, a   
  
breeze lifting her hair off the back of her neck. The only sound was the soft   
  
click of heels on concrete as she began to slowly walk back to her part of the   
  
city. Blue hues raised to the star studded sky and she smiled. Life was good to   
  
her.   
  
    She walked head on into something hard..."Oof!" Elena jumped back   
  
mumbling apologies. "I'm sorry, I wasn't wat--" Her words got choked off by a gasp. A   
  
hand went to her throat, eyes widening.  
  
    "We seem to be doing this a lot lately, no?"   
  
    His voice was just as she remembered it had been that night 3 years ago,   
  
sexy, faintly accented, and all the more confident. Elena tried to open her   
  
mouth, found it frozen, could feel her heart pounding in her throat. Why did he   
  
always do this to her? Cause her knees to feel weak, heart to beat rapidly,   
  
palms to sweat...And ultimately cause an ache deep inside her she knew could   
  
only be quenched if she allowed herself to...  
  
    *No!* She mentally shook herself. Straightening herself, back rigid,   
  
lifting her chin to meet his gaze squarely, she arched one eyebrow.   
  
    " *Come va? * Back so soon?" Her voice rang out quiet, steely.  
  
       He was clearly taken aback, but took it with the grace only Damon   
  
could find. Black eyes glinted and his lips twisted into a smirk that made him all   
  
the more captivating -- That is to say if you liked the dark and dangerous   
  
type.  
  
    "You looke ravishing, as always... *Dov'e il tuo marito? Sempre solo.* "  
  
   She took a deep, audible breath and placed one hand on her hip, gaze not   
  
wavering.  "At home. I came to feed by myself tonight. He was content."  
  
    Elena could tell he didn't really care, he simply wanted to make her   
  
uncomforatable.   
  
    "I know you're not here to make small talk, Damon. Now cut the crap and   
  
tell me what you want."  
  
    "What I want, *la mia cara?* " He smiled devilishly. "What I want... I've   
  
already had a taste of."  
  
    Elena made a noise; something akin to annoyance. "I'm not letting you get   
  
to me this time, Damon. I mean it. Your charms won't get me into your bed   
  
again. Just because I made that *mistake* once, doesn't mean I'll come crawling   
  
to you like a bitch in heat a second time, the minute you show up..." She spat   
  
waspishly.  
  
    Damon had the good grace to look mildly ruffled by that. But it quickly   
  
faded and if she hadn't taught herself to read him well, she would have missed   
  
it altogether.  
  
    "You can relax yourself, Elena. That's not why I'm here."  
  
    "Oh, really? I'm sorry if I find that hard to believe."  
  
    He looked aggravated and his black eyes flashed menacingly. "You know   
  
better than to push me, Elena."  
  
    She glared, blue eyes becoming icy.   
  
    "Besides, you should also know I don't lie about unimportant matters."  
  
    Elena's arms lifted to fold beneath her chest and she regarded him   
  
carefully. "Then why are you here?"  
  
    He didn't answer. Instead, she had merely blinked and he had crossed the   
  
space that separated them and was before her. She inhaled sharply. One long   
  
finger reached out to run along her cheekbone and she found her breathing had   
  
increased pace.  
  
    "What are you doing?"  
  
    /Reminiscing.../ The voice in her head was intimate. He bent his head   
  
low, and she thought he was going to kiss her. But he moved suddenly as he began   
  
circling her, softly inhaling the scent of her. /I've almost forgotten how you   
  
taste.../  
  
    Elena took a breath and was angry to find it shaky. "Don't think you can   
  
take the liberty to remind yourself."  
  
    Damon was now behind her, and he rested his hands lightly on her   
  
shoulders, breath cool against her ear as he whispered, "No, but I bet I know who   
  
does...every night."  
  
    She tensed beneath his touch and whirled around furiously. "Don't --"  
  
    His lips silenced her words. And for a moment she felt herself giving in,   
  
but then she whipped away, taking a few unsteady steps back. Damon looked   
  
vaguely amused.   
  
    "I thought," Elena said brusquely, "you said that wasn't why you were   
  
here."  
  
    His laughter rippled through her, sounding as inviting, as engaging, as   
  
ever. She had to fight hard to keep the biting edge to her voice. "Well?"  
  
    "I suppose I did lie, then."  
  
    Her cheeks flushed with anger and she moved to slap him. His hand caught   
  
hers before she could even come close. "Such a quick temper, my dear."  
  
    "Damn you, Damon, " she spat, "I won't let you do this to me again!"  
  
    He seemed about to laugh again, at her anger or simply at her, and that   
  
only spurred on rage. Her breath came in gasps, chest heaving beneath her tight   
  
sweater,  
  
       Her hand fell to her side as he released it. His finding her or the   
  
situation humorous was brief and his face turned serious and sinister.  Damon's   
  
voice was once again low, self-assured. "We'll see about that."   
  
    With that, he vanished, leaving Elena feeling shocked and angry in the   
  
middle of the sidewalk.   
  
      ~*~ 


	3. Part 3

   
  
   
  
~*~  
  
   
  
    Music blared, drowning out almost every other noise in the dimly lit club. The dance floor was packed with gyrating bodies, the scent of perfumes intermingled with sweat was powerful and strobe lights flashed every now and then. Bodies half clad in leather and mesh mixed with stiletto heels and mini-skirts. Elena smirked from her spot above by the railing where she stood on the second level. Peering down below her, her eyes picked out the flash of red hair belonging to the woman dancing with her husband. It wasn't unusual for the owner of the club to be out on the dance floor; however, it was usually with Elena. Sometimes, they even fed that way (that is, if it was in a dark enough area with a drunk enough person). This time, given their company, Elena had let them take the floor.  
  
   
  
      Bonnie's pink strapless dress clung to her, and left barely anything covered. Her cleavage was clearly visible and her hair was a wild, untamed waterfall down her back as she danced, her arms looped about Stefan's neck. Elena's stomach clenched as she let her eyes wander over her husband's body. He looked incredibly sexy at the moment, his hair disheveled and falling into his eyes -- which Elena realized with a pang reminded her of another dark haired Italian she knew...She shook her head; she wouldn't let *him* invade her thoughts. Instead, she concentrated on the level below her, eyes riveted on her husband, whose well-toned chest was covered by a form fitting black t-shirt, his legs were clad in leather (his new taste thanks to Elena) and it set a slow burning in her stomach to watch him as he danced freely with her friend. She wasn't jealous, no, she had no fear whatsoever of Stefan doing something foolish. Their marriage was one built on trust -- well, if not before, now it was definitely.  
  
   
  
    The song was coming to an end and a new one started up. She moved down the steps leading to the first floor and sauntered off onto the dance floor, making her way between bodies in various positions...Most were dancing, but there were some exceptions and Elena tore her eyes away from those particular couples...  
  
   
  
    Elena then stood before the two, her friend's cheeks flushed pink from exertion and there was a strange glow about her. It made Elena think...But she quickly disregarded it as a silly thought and pushed her way between.       
  
      
  
    "Mind if I cut in?" She asked, not waiting for an answer as she drew Stefan to her who's smiled broadened and he slipped his hands onto her hips. They moved in time to the beat; Elena had always been a very good dancer and Stefan was one hell of a dancer himself. Elena let herself go, pressing her hips to his and beginning to grind against him as they danced. Rarely, did she allow herself to have such "public displays of affection"; at least not this sexual. But she was incredibly turned on from watching him and Bonnie moments before. Green eyes glittered with enjoyment and his face, which was already flushed from the heat of the club, turned a brighter shade of crimson as he moved with her.  
  
   
  
    Bonnie, now alone for the time being, moved over to the bar, taking a seat on a stool and smiled falsely at the bartender. She could tell instantly he was no human.   
  
   
  
    "Mud slide, please."   
  
Taking her glass, she brought it to her lips, brown eyes on one couple in particular. They were giving quite a show, she had to admit, which she did with rueful acknowledgement. She shook her head, rather disgusted at herself for the apparent jealousy. Bonnie took a large gulp. Damn, she should've ordered vodka shots. She could use some right now; she wouldn't mind being a little drunk -- anything to keep her mind from floating off into strange perverse thoughts about her best friend's husband.  
  
   
  
    The two on the dance floor were dancing sensually, openly announcing their sense of sexuality, evidently not ashamed to show their want for another as they dance right up against one another. With a groan, Bonnie watched Stefan's hand rest against Elena's behind, which was donned in a smooth, short red skirt which revealed her shapely legs. Her chest, which was covered only by a black tank top, was pressed firmly to Stefan and Bonnie had to take another large sip from her drink as Elena's mouth sought Stefan's.  
  
   
  
    *This is ridiculous! What the fuck is wrong with me? Maybe I should call up Meredith's husband...Yes, Alaric would know what was wrong with me. I bet my psychic powers are getting out of whack or something...*  
  
   
  
    Oh, hell. Who was she kidding? Screw psychic ability. Her lust for Stefan Salvatore had nothing to do with that.  
  
   
  
    ***  
  
   
  
    "What? Here? You're joking..."  
  
   
  
    "Perfectly serious, love."  
  
   
  
    Stefan's eyes widened and he smirked at Elena as they danced. She lightly nipped at his lips, her tongue running over the curve of his upper lip. "Are you drunk?" he teased.  
  
   
  
    She shook her head, laughing. "Perfectly sober, too." Her fingers ran through his damp hair. "And I'm well aware what I want to do..."  
  
   
  
    "But...I mean...Elena, *here* ?"  
  
   
  
    "Oh, come now, Stefan. I'm in the mood to be naughty..." She smirked. "Do I hear a complaint?" Blue eyes were amused and a smirk played about on ruby lips. She was well aware of the envious stares of the other occupants of Ravishing Oblivion and it made this all the more fun.  
  
   
  
    "No, not at all," he replied, laughing as well now, their bodies still moving to the rhythm. "I just wonder what's gotten into you all of a sudden."  
  
   
  
    Elena leaned forward, resting her cheek against his to speak into his ear. "Nothing...Just you."  
  
   
  
    Stefan had to admit, her sudden desire to be with him, especially in a place they were likely to get caught -- and be in all the more trouble since they owned the place -- turned him on immensely. It wasn't like her to want to have sex so openly.  
  
   
  
    "I'll tell you what," she whispered, "would it be better if we went upstairs?"  
  
   
  
    He grinned, his hands moving along the small of her back. "I know where you mean..."  
  
   
  
    "Good. Then what are we waiting for?"  
  
   
  
    Drawing back, she took his hand and led him off the dance floor. She moved up the steps slowly, pushing her way past others gather along the wall and finally came to rest in front of the door that led to the private, "owners only" room in the very back of the upstairs where few people had ever even noticed it.  
  
   
  
    Opening the door, they stepped inside and Stefan was sure to lock the door securely behind them. Elena grinned, and walked over to the door once more, unlocking it.  
  
   
  
    "What are you doing?" Stefan questioned, looking a bit panicked.  
  
   
  
    "Don't you think," she said, voice low and sultry, "it would be a whole lot more...interesting...with the prospect of getting caught?" Moving over to him, she drew him close, brushing her lips over his softly.  
  
   
  
    It was a task to even make the simple gesture of a nod, as his hands were already moving like lightening along her body, touching, groping, wanting.  
  
   
  
    Hastily, they undressed one another, wasting no time with taking it slow. Her hands were already easing him down onto the couch against the far wall, and her lips were pressed firmly to his. His own hands were smoothing down the creamy skin of her back to her butt, and her heartbeat quickened.  
  
   
  
    "I want you," she murmured against his lips as he kissed her. "Badly."  
  
   
  
    With no clothing left to separate them, he pulled her onto him with a gasp, pushing his hips upward to meet hers as she set her own into a slow grind. Their breathing was deep, erratic, as they continued; Elena's thighs pressed tightly to his sides, her nails raking down his chest. She threw back her head with a groan as he sped up his pace, her knees digging into the cushions of the couch.  
  
   
  
    Her name being whispered hoarsely over and over was all she heard, mixed with the ragged breathing that was her own, as she moved against him. Chest heaving with every rise and fall as she clenched his shoulders, his hands clasped to her rear.   
  
   
  
    Stefan's eyes were squeezed shut and Elena eased forward, pressing them chest to chest, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Muffled moans could be heard, both his and hers.  
  
   
  
    Lost in each other, they never heard the door.  
  
   
  
***  
  
   
  
      
  
    "Hey baby, wanna' give some luck of the Irish over here?"   
  
   
  
    Bonnie whirled around to face the man who she'd traced the voice to. "Fuck off, asshole. I'm Scottish."  
  
   
  
    He was a heavy set, middle-aged man, with auburn hair that looked as though it hadn't seen the shampoo bottle since he was a toddler, and sported a beer belly which poked out from beneath a shirt when he moved make an obscene gesture, to which Bonnie simply replied by giving him the finger and storming off, the sound of his exploding Heineken ringing in her ears. She distantly heard him curse.  
  
   
  
    She headed up the stairs, a bit unsteady; her feet feeling as though they were made of lead as she stumbled up the steps. The effects of having one too many of those Mud slides.  
  
   
  
    Cursing herself for wearing such high heels, she gripped the banister and managed to make it all the way to the top only really falling once. She wanted to find Stefan and Elena, tell them she was heading back to the apartment to nurse an ever growing headache from the alcohol, which she knew she'd pay dearly for the following morning with her head over the toilet.   
  
   
  
    Her instinct took her to the far end of the upper level and her mind argued with her intuition. *What the hell is back here? -- Nothing, that's what. -- You're drunk Bonnie, there's nothing but wall...-- I'm not drunk, damnit! I only had...Okay, so I *am* drunk -- Bonnie McCullough, get a grip on reality, you're turning schizophrenic...*  
  
   
  
    She shook her head in attempt to clear her thoughts, which only succeeded in her nearly falling flat on her face if it hadn't been for the nice, convenient...doorknob...?! The redhead did a double take, squinting, angry at her double vision. "Doorknob? Now I know I'm *really* crashed...Downright drunk off my ass. I need to--  
  
   
  
    She blinked. Fingers grasping the solid brass doorknob. *Alright, so there really *is* a damn doorknob...* Now what the hell could that be for?  
  
   
  
    *Hmm..Maybe a *door*, you idiot.* That damn voice in her head was getting irritating! Oh, hold on a second. That was just herself...  
  
Boy, oh boy, did she need to get out of here…  
  
   
  
    Her thoughts stopped racing long enough to realize she heard noise from behind the door. With that, she turned the knob, opening the door and--  
  
   
  
     --    *Oh my fuck.*  
  
   
  
    Swallowing thickly as her eyes took in the sight of Elena and Stefan entangled on the bed, in the throws of passion and lost in ecstasy. That was all she needed and with that, she shut the door behind her, throwing herself against the wall, chest heaving with her heavy, labored breathing.   
  
   
  
    Why did it bother her so much? What was the cause for her sudden fit of nausea (besides the drinking of course)? She groaned, lifting a hand to her head.   
  
   
  
    She wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. Torn between being furious at herself and her insane longings, and being helplessly depressed, she sank to her knees, thankful for the darkness. Around her, the upper walls were lined with tiny circular bulbs in multi-colors, but here, in the far, far back, there were none.  
  
   
  
    Not only overcome by those feelings, there was also a prominent ache in her that she could only identify as being turned on. The carpet was rough against her bare knees and she put her head into her hands, curls falling forward to shade her eyes.   
  
   
  
    *Why does it do this to me?* She picked up her head, hands clenching into fists by her sides, as she raised her face to the ceiling, her rage taking over. *Because I want him.*  
  
   
  
    That other side of her kicked in again. That annoying, nagging, *truthful* part of her brain. *And you, Bonnie McCullough, cannot have him.*  
  
   
  
    Bonnie let her mind's eye wander, opening her vision for an instant and allowing her to "sense" what was going on, and inside the room, she knew they had finished.  
  
   
  
    Tiny popping sounds...Followed by a wave of tiny shrieks, words of amazement, curses, and even some screams as one by one, every one of those little bulbs burst as an outlet to her fury.   
  
   
  
~*~  
  
   
  
    


	4. Part 4

   
  
   
  
   
  
~*~  
  
The electric red numbers of the bedside clock blazed 11:59 PM. She blinked.   
  
Midnight.   
  
      
  
    One long fingered hand held the peach towel tightly to her form, the   
  
other picked up a deep blue robe that lay draped across the King bed, where forest   
  
green Egyptian silk sheets and a heavy down comforter beckoned to Elena. Her   
  
towel dropped, her body damp from the shower, and beads of water still   
  
trickled down between her breasts, down her legs. She shivered, the room chilly.  
  
    Left arm slipped into the robe, followed by the right. She tied the sash   
  
firmly around her waist, and just the right amount of skin was left showing,   
  
both of her chest and her thighs. Elena moved over to the dresser, selecting   
  
her brush and began to run it through her long, wet blonde hair, as she stood   
  
before the mirror.  
  
    A noise. She paused. Blue eyes widened, heart beat picking up nervously.   
  
/Stefan?/  
  
    No response. /Bonnie?/   
  
    Again, no response. She swallowed, shaking her head vigorously. *Don't be   
  
ridiculous, Elena. You're safe,* she told herself and resumed brushing her   
  
hair. Eyes shifted to the clock again, then glanced back into the mirror. She   
  
froze, did a double-take, and cautiously put the brush down. A flash of black   
  
eyes had appeared in the mirror. But as she gazed around, slowly revolving in a   
  
full turn, no one was there.  
  
    A forced laugh sounded loud to her ears in the otherwise silent bedroom.   
  
Alone, she felt jittery and felt unbelievably foolish. Stefan was downstairs,   
  
Bonnie was out somewhere -- She'd been acting strange since the incident at   
  
the club, which she'd shrugged off and blamed as a freak accident. Stefan had   
  
mentioned he was doubtful about that explanation, yet neither had beening   
  
willing to push the matter.  
  
    *You're a big girl, Elena. You can handle being alone...!*  
  
    She set the brush down on the bureau, sighing. She turned away...walked   
  
over to the bed...froze.  
  
    Warm hands rested on her shoulders. Elena's breath was sharp and she   
  
nearly screamed.  
  
    She laughed again at her stupidity, turning to face the owner of the   
  
hands. "Stefan, how--" Her mouth slammed shut.  
  
    "*Buona notte,* Elena. Beautiful, as always."  
  
    Lapis eyes were cold, narrowed. "Get out." She was fighting her body's   
  
natural instinct to break down when she saw him; not with fear, but with desire.   
  
And she was doing a damn good job at it tonight.  
  
    Black eyes widened with mock hurt. "Come again?"  
  
    "I think," Elena said sharply, "that you heard me the first time." She   
  
moved out of his touch.  
  
    Damon lounged against one of the poles that created the canopy above her   
  
bed. "Such a warm welcome, *mia cara*."  
  
    Elena glared, arms moving to cross beneath her small chest, and she   
  
stepped back a few paces, clearly showing she wanted to be no where near him.   
  
"He'll kill you, you know."  
  
    "Who?" Damon scoffed rudely, one brow quirked. "Your dear husband? *Mio   
  
fratello piccolo?*" He laughed humorlessly.  
  
    "If he comes upstairs, and finds you here, in our room, I don't think   
  
he'll say, '*Ciao,* Damon'."  
  
    His chest rose beneath his black shirt as he took a deep breath. "He   
  
won't be coming up."  
  
    Elena looked politely confused. "And you'd know how?"  
  
    "Because you won't call him up. You won't tell him I'm here."  
  
    "What makes you so sure? All I have to do is--"  
  
    "If you do, you know it'll only create accusations...And guess where the   
  
finger will point, my dear? Back to you. I believe it was you the first time   
  
who--"  
  
    "Alright, *basta!* I get your point, damn you."  
  
    Damon smirked, content.   "*Bene*."  
  
    Dark eyes took in his surroundings, scanned the white painted walls, the   
  
large bed, one matching arm chair in a corner, large floor to ceiling windows,   
  
with an approving nod. "I see you two make the best of the family fortune."  
  
    She rolled her eyes, lips parting, mouth opening to speak. He cut her off.  
  
    "I know what you're going to say," he started, swinging those captivating   
  
eyes to hers as they moved slowly, brazenly over her practically naked form,   
  
as though he knew exactly what lay beneath her robe. "You're going to ask why   
  
I'm here." His eyes paused on her chest, shifted down over her stomach, to her   
  
legs...Rose back up, lingered on her throat, her lips. Met her eyes once   
  
again. "Like you always do."  
  
    Elena felt heat rise to her face, working it's way down into her throat   
  
as well. Furious at the feelings she knew were beginning to emerge again --   
  
evidently they couldn't be withheld much longer -- she had to force herself to   
  
look away.   
  
    Damon seemed to know her thoughts; either from his simple ingenuity when   
  
it came to understanding her, or his ability to read her thoughts. She knew   
  
not which. But either way, it became apparent when he took a daring step closer.   
  
And then another. And another.  
  
    Mere inches apart now, with barely a breath to separate them, he reached   
  
out, trailing long, slender fingers up her arms. She heard her breathing   
  
quicken, and she knew, as she moved her eyes to meet his, she would be unable to   
  
look away again.   
  
    "Aren't you going to answer me?" She inquired softly, distracted by the   
  
fingers that were drifting to her collarbone.  
  
    "Are you afraid of me, Elena?" Answering with a question of his own,   
  
fingers of both hands dipping beneath the silky fabric of her robe on either side   
  
by her shoulders, pushing it away, the sash at her waist slightly loosening.  
  
      
  
    Beneath her chest, Elena's heart pounded and vaguely, she wondered if he   
  
could hear it. Half of her mind willed Stefan to walk up the steps to their   
  
room, the other half fought it with both the knowledge of the problems it would   
  
cause and the undeniable want to rip off his cloths and ravish him right   
  
there. She wanted to feel his hands on her bare skin, re-live the moments of that   
  
long ago night...  
  
     /Don't deny this, Elena.../  
  
          
  
    Her head fell back, his soft, gentle lips met the hollow of her throat.   
  
He could feel her rapid pulse beneath her smooth, faintly lavender-scented   
  
skin. Tongue flickered out to run along the skin there. His hands shifted, palms   
  
working their way over her shoulders, as the robe was pushed a bit farther off.   
  
She was drawn closer to him then, as his hands rested against the small of   
  
her back. Her robe had come untied, falling open.  
  
    It wouldn't be so bad, would it? If she just let go...Gave in...?  
  
    One of his hands lifted, placed lightly on her chin, drawing her face   
  
down to meet his gaze. Black eyes were intense, heated by a torrent of emotions.   
  
Her own reflected much the same, and she felt her lips part with a breath, as   
  
he pulled her mouth down, descending on his.  
  
    *No!* With a startled cry, Elena pushed herself away, quickly pulling her   
  
robe together with a hand. The only thing causing her blush now was her shame.  
  
      *What was I *thinking* ?! Oh, God help me if I am so weak to this man.*  
  
     She stumbled back against a dresser, the pictures and perfume bottles   
  
there rattling as her backside bumped against it. Damon's expression was blank,   
  
which Elena found more grating than if he had laughed or cursed her.  
  
    "Get *out*. *Parti, adesso! Lo significo!*   She growled , indicating the   
  
window to be his means of disappearance, assuming it had been his means of   
  
entrance.  
  
    He kept his expression carefully neutral, void of all emotion, until he   
  
got to the window. "Fine," he snarled, "go to *him*. But I warn you, Elena.   
  
Don't think there won't be consequences."  
  
    Before she could even form a reply, let alone utter it, he had   
  
disappeared.   
  
    Elena wanted to cry. She needed her husband now more than ever.  
  
***  
  
        "Elena?"  
  
    The door opened, Stefan poked his head through. She sat on the edge of   
  
the bed, head in hands. Instinctively, he went to her, sinking to his knees and   
  
drawing her into his arms.   
  
    "Oh, Stefan. Stefan, Stefan, Stefan..." She murmured as gentle, loving   
  
hands caressed her back, stroked her hair which had dried into silky strands,   
  
with just a slight wave. Her face buried into the crook of his neck and she   
  
breathed in the scent of him.  
  
    "Elena, what is it?"   
  
    Oh, he sounded so concerned, so loving. Her heart ached. She lifted her   
  
head, drawing back to look at him, as his hands cupped her face, brows furrowed   
  
with worry.    
  
    "Did something happen?" He asked, suddenly angry, wanting to rip whoever   
  
had dared to hurt her to shreds with his bare hands. "By God I'll --"  
  
    She silenced him with a kiss. "Shh, beloved."  
  
    He did, looking slightly confused, but less worried. She ran her fingers   
  
through his hair, a tender sign of her affection. Suddenly, she looked at   
  
peace, as she gazed upon him. Her eyes were alight with adoration.   
  
    "I love you."  
  
    And it was the simple, blatant truth.   
  
    Damon could go to hell. All that mattered at this moment in time was that   
  
Stefan was here, with her, and he loved her. She needed him, his touch, his   
  
kiss. She needed the warmth of his hands on her, the feel of his breath against   
  
her cheek as he made love to her. She needed this, craved this, to block out   
  
the anguish she felt at the memories her mind was bringing forth. Her need for   
  
this was indescribable, as she had to dissolve and forget the thoughts of   
  
another. Replace them with thoughts of Stefan. Her Stefan; her love, her life.   
  
    Stefan's arms slipped around her as he moved to join her on the bed,   
  
lying down and drawing her head to his chest.  For a good few moments she lay   
  
there, content with the simple feeling of his heartbeat beneath her head and the   
  
gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. But then she moved, picking   
  
up her head and shifting to press her lips to his in a loving yet firm kiss;   
  
demanding and giving at the same time.  
  
    She whispered, "Touch me."   
  
    It was a simple command, one she knew he would obey, and he nodded,   
  
allowing his hands to freely roam her body as she rested atop him, her robe   
  
discarded as soon after were his clothes.   
  
    "I love you," he replied, his voice sweet and loving in the darkness of   
  
the bedroom.  
  
    He took her then and proceeded to tenderly make love to her, their   
  
movements slow and passionate as each made their way up to their climax, where they   
  
brought each other tumbling over the edge.  
  
    In the aftermath, they lay there, Elena's erratic breathing gradually   
  
tapering off, as he held her close. His heartbeat the only other sound in her   
  
ears.  
  
    And this was the way it was meant to be. Always.  
  
    She hoped beyond hope that nothing would ever change that. No, she would   
  
die first, before willingly subjecting their marriage, their love, their   
  
hearts to what she had done once and swore she would never do again. She assumed he   
  
felt the same way, and it was times like these she believed this strongly.  
  
    Then again, was love always enough? There went that saying, "love   
  
conquers all".  And did love truly, always conquer?   
  
    Better yet, was it possible to love two people? What did one do if that   
  
were the case?   
  
     She supposed one had to choose. And she knew damn well who she'd pick.     
  
           
  
    But did love always endure the toughest, most arduous obstacles in it's   
  
path?       
  
    She hoped so. She really did.  
  
~*~ 


	5. Part 5

   
  
~*~  
  
   
  
     "Mr. Salvatore?"   
  
   
  
     "Yes?"  
  
   
  
     "It's Antonio, sir. You're needed here."  
  
   
  
     "What's wrong? Is there a problem?"  
  
   
  
    "Well..." A pause. "...There's been an accident."  
  
   
  
    ***  
  
                                              
  
     "Bonnie, where are you going?"   
  
   
  
    It was well after one AM and Elena watched as Bonnie picked up her coat from the hook on the wall. Stefan had sternly told her to stay home and away from the club. She hadn't argued.  
  
   
  
    "Out...I need to get some fresh air."  
  
   
  
    "Having trouble sleeping?"  
  
   
  
    A long pause. "Yeah..."  
  
   
  
    Elena nodded, the television momentarily on mute, as she regarded her friend seriously from her spot on the couch. The redhead opened the door, a strange expression on her face; a mixture of annoyance coupled with something Elena felt was guilt.  
  
   
  
    Bonnie was halfway out the door when Elena's voice stopped her again.   
  
   
  
    "Are you sure you don't need to talk about something, Bonnie?"   
  
   
  
    The voice from the living room was quiet, concerned. Unsuspecting of her true motives.  
  
   
  
    It made her stomach hurt worse and the pounding in her head only increase.  
  
   
  
    She didn't turn around as she answered, her voice sounding unconvincing despite her best efforts, "Yes, I'm sure."  
  
   
  
    Her friend didn't reply this time, and Bonnie could sense the blue gaze on her back like white fire. Her hand tightened on the doorknob and for an instant, she turned her head partially towards the beautiful woman on the couch; her friend from childhood, one who trusted her completely. The one who got it all.  
  
   
  
    "And Elena?"  
  
   
  
    This time the blonde responded.  "Hmm?"  
  
   
  
    "Thank you."  
  
   
  
    As Bonnie left, Elena sat up straighter, contemplative. Just what the hell was going on there? Bonnie had been quite silent this past few days, yes, subdued even. But unhappy? What exactly was troubling her?   
  
   
  
    Where was the perky, bubbly woman with whom Elena was supposed to be spending time with, but who obviously wanted nothing to do with her at the moment? Especially these last few days?  
  
   
  
    Supposedly, she was just needing time alone. Difficulty sleeping she'd reasoned. But was there more to that than met the eye? It had been this way for a while now. Ever since that night at the club when Elena had snuck upstairs with Stefan, into that back room and...  
  
   
  
    But Bonnie didn't know about that...Or did she? And if she did, it wouldn't bother her...Or did it?  
  
   
  
    Elena wondered if she was the only one with secrets now.  
  
   
  
***  
  
   
  
    "1 AM is a dangerous time for such a lovely woman to be out on the streets of New York alone..."  
  
   
  
    "Go to Hell. I've got worse shit to deal with in my life. To tell the--"  
  
   
  
    In her anger, the voice didn't even register in her mind. For the moment. But then it clicked.  
  
   
  
    The soft trace of a lingering accent, the hushed but still arrogant tone...Bonnie stopped dead in her tracks as she very, very, slowly turned around to face the pair of midnight eyes she knew were staring.  
  
   
  
    Her senses went into overload as they picked up the wild, ridiculously strong Power aura that surrounded him like a cloak. It fit rather aptly. He could very well play the role of a King of Darkness -- After all, Elena had almost become his Queen. Quickly, she regained control of her own powers and took a deep breath.  
  
   
  
    "To tell the truth..." She began again, serious, "I'd rather be jumped right now than live my life."     
  
    A chuckle, black eyes boring into hers. Why had she come this way, exactly? She'd strayed from the upper-class area where Elena lived and had wandered, blindly, into a dank, dirty, and apparently dangerous area. And ran smack into one of the most Powerful vampire's she knew. (Not that she knew very many, of course...)  
  
   
  
    "What's so funny?"  
  
   
  
    "You are."  
  
   
  
    Bonnie felt humiliation that turned to rage boil in her veins. "And just what's so fucking funny about me?"  
  
   
  
    "I know why you're here." His voice was calm, controlled. It made her furious.  
  
   
  
    "Oh, do you now?" Her lips formed a nasty sneer and she watched as he took a step into the light cast by a dimly lit streetlight.  
  
   
  
    "Yes."  
  
   
  
    God, he was gorgeous. How had she ever been surprised Elena slept with him? She'd screw him right now if she wasn't so angry at him, at herself, at the world...  
  
   
  
    "And why's that?"  
  
   
  
    "You're playing the game we all play at least once in our existence. You're fighting against Fate and the way the chips fell. I know what you want. I know *who* you want."  
  
   
  
    Bonnie felt a heated flush burning brightly on her face, and she was caught between shock and indignation. She nearly choked and had to take a good few seconds to even open her mouth to speak.  
  
   
  
    "H-How did--"  
  
   
  
    "Tsk, tsk. You're not very careful with your mind, my dear," he interrupted. "Your mind was like a book to me, what, with your shields down and all..."  
  
   
  
    *DAMINT!* Bonnie mentally cursed herself. Wallowing in her depression and envy, she hadn't even thought to block her mind.   
  
   
  
    She felt the brush of another mind against hers; a silky, seductive whisp like a feather.  
  
   
  
    /Get out of my head, Damon!/  
  
   
  
    With a laugh that made her rigid knees want to buckle and give out beneath her, and turn her into a groveling puddle of mush before this sex-god's feet, he withdrew his mind from hers.  
  
   
  
    He leaned against the lamp post in that familiar, leisurely way of his, that only Damon Salvatore was capable of; as if he owned it and the entire space surrounding them.  
  
   
  
    For all she knew, he could've.  
  
   
  
    Her mouth opened, closed...Opened again...Closed. She didn't even know what to say to this man, this vampire who made her breath catch and who was laughing at her...Who, for all she knew, could grab her, have his way with her, and drain her dry, mercilessly.   
  
   
  
    At this point, would she even care? The way things were going, probably not.  
  
   
  
    "What do you want with me, anyway? Why are you wasting your time?" Bonnie's tone was harsh, her irritation surfacing finally, overpowering her sexual drive towards a man she should fear.  
  
   
  
    He looked thoughtful for a moment, pensive, as his head tilted off to one side and his arms, clad in dark, soft leather, folded across his muscular chest. Black eyes freely, shamelessly, roamed her body. She wished she'd dressed with a bit more clothing.  
  
   
  
    Not that she'd exactly mind, nor care, if he took her right here on the streets of this disgusting place. Not like she was very close at getting who she *really* wanted into her bed any time soon.  
  
   
  
    He seemed to know her thoughts and she slammed up another shield. Damon only smirked.  
  
   
  
    "Oh, believe me, Red. If I had wanted to fuck you, I would've done so a long time ago...Not," he added, tone picking up in a manner of almost a sexual purr, "that I would mind, of course. You're a beautiful woman. But...I'm not interested in your body right now."  
  
   
  
    Bonnie thrust her hands deep within the pockets of her jacket. "And what are you interested in? I asked you that already and I'd like an answer."  
  
   
  
    "What you'd like, really isn't my concern."  
  
   
  
    "Fuck you."  
  
   
  
    "Maybe later, love. I told you just before--"  
  
   
  
    "Oh, shut up!" She stamped a booted foot on the ground and her eyes were heated with anger. She didn't want to deal with this arrogant, self-centered, vain, son-of-a-bitch right now...Even if he was drop-dead sexy.  
  
   
  
    He sobered. "Touchy, aren't we?"  
  
   
  
    Bonnie made no reply.   
  
   
  
    Damon sighed, stepping closer to her with what seemed to be a defeated nod. "Alright. I see you're in no mood to play with tonight...So I'll get straight to the point."  
  
   
  
    "Good idea."  
  
   
  
    He stood directly in front of her now and let one finger lightly touch her lips. She shivered. A faint smile formed on his lips as she did this, and he let that finger wander into her sea of red tangled tresses, winding one smooth curl around his finger.  
  
   
  
    Leaning in, he lightly nipped at her bottom lip. *What is he doing?* She asked herself, as her heart started to race. He apparently felt no urge to do her before, why the sudden change of heart?  
  
   
  
    His hands sunk into the velvet spirals that were her hair, tilting her face up gently and capturing her lips with his. The kiss was brief, and she had just closed her eyes, allowing herself to give into the feeling of being wanted, when his teeth sunk into her neck. Hard.  
  
   
  
    With a strangled yelp, Bonnie went to claw at him, shove him away, kick him right in the crotch...But found herself frozen. He was stronger than even she had realized. Somehow, he was holding her completely still, paralyzed, while he did what he pleased.  
  
   
  
    /You son-of-a-bitch!/  
  
   
  
    The mind that was interlocked with hers as he fed from her, painfully no less, was silent. There were images in his mind that he didn't bother to hide from her. Detailed, openly explicit images -- Memories, rather, of a night...A night she recognized and understood to be the night he'd spent with Elena.  
  
   
  
    But Bonnie could barely focus on those reminiscent scenes, even as they played about in her own mind as though part of her own memories. She was getting weaker by the moment. With every painful suck from her neck, every flick of his tongue against her sensitive skin, caused her body to cry out in torment. She'd never been fed off of by force. And Stefan and Damon weren't kidding when they said it was no pleasure ride.  
  
   
  
       /Stop it!/ She cried out into his mind, a last heart-wrenching plea from her to him. She'd summoned it with just about the last of her strength.   
  
   
  
    Was he going to kill her?  
  
   
  
    But just as her mind remorsefully, but not totally upsettingly, accepted her fate, he roughly pushed her away, running the back of his hand over his lips.  
  
   
  
    She stumbled back, nearly falling to the pavement. With a groan, she supported herself against a building with weak, shaky legs.  
  
   
  
    Her shields had fallen when he'd began to drink from her, his own mind easing through them as she became subject to his feeding. And try as she might, Bonnie couldn't seem to get them back up.  
  
   
  
    If she'd had the strength, she would've cried. Damon's mind touched hers again and she winced.    
  
   
  
    /Do *not* fuck with me, Bonnie McCullough/    
  
   
  
    /What did I do?/  She was honesty afraid of him right now, as she had never been afraid of anyone in her entire life.  
  
   
  
    Again, he did not answer her question. But he did speak. His voice was cold and rang with authoraty. "You should fear me like no other, Bonnie. Do not think I will be so sparing next time. I won't."  
  
   
  
    She wouldn't have been able stop him if he wanted to mess with her mind a bit.  
  
   
  
    But he didn't. Not totally. Instead, he wiped her clean of most of the events of just before, replacing her agony with a groggy, drunken feeling.  
  
   
  
    "Wh..Why..Did.." It was so hard to speak, so very hard to form words. "Why did you...do that?  Hurt me?"  
  
   
  
    Black eyes glimmered in the light from the street lamp, inky hair reflected rainbows. She wanted to reach out and touch him, suddenly...Her eyes, glassy and her head spinning, could barely distinguish from her confusion, fear, and lust.  
  
   
  
    "You just happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time...With the wrong man."   
  
   
  
    His voice was cruel and she could sense, even with her powers as burnt as they were, that beneath it, he was hurting. And he had chosen her as his outlet for his pain. Lucky her.  
  
   
  
    But her weakness had dissolved somewhat, and she found it slightly more easier to hold her head up and her eyes open. She wondered if that was his way of apologizing.   
  
   
  
    "Go."  
  
   
  
    He vanished.  
  
   
  
***  
  
   
  
        Heavy metal doors were pushed open to reveal the flashing of revolving lights and loud, almost deafeningly so, music, pumping from amps and stereos throughout the modern club; people, human and vampire alike, crowded on the dance floor, at tables, and up above on the second level. Her feet wouldn't work right. She stumbled into the building.  
  
   
  
    Bonnie sighed, though it was unheard with the blasting, sharp sounds of electric guitars and drums, along with male and female voices shouting out lyrics Bonnie could barely discern. Something about unrequited love? *Heh. Join the job.* She felt a sneer forming on her cinnamon painted lips.  
  
   
  
    She groaned, frustratedly.  Damn room wouldn't stop spinning...  
  
   
  
    Blurry honey eyes scanned the jumble of moving bodies, picked out a head of black hair and green eyes that could only be one person...Though her vision showed her three...Or was it four?   
  
      
  
    Four...Five...Six...Hell, there could be one thousand...She didn't give a damn. She'd fuck every one of them until they dropped if she could only get there, across the dance floor, to where he stood. But it was so difficult, extremely so, to even stay upright when her legs threatening to give out and her feet simply refused to walk in a straight line.  
  
   
  
    She'd been in the kitchen when the phone conversation had gone on between Stefan and someone from Ravishing Oblivion. No one had told her what the "accident" was, but now, vaguely, she could hear bits and pieces of conversation as she staggered through the room tightly packed with dancing, laughing, shouting, cursing, bodies.  
  
   
  
     "...flames everywhere..."  
  
   
  
     "...not what I heard...Seven people...!"  
  
   
  
      "...did it happen?"  
  
      
  
       "...second level...freak accident...like those light bulbs..."  
  
   
  
        "...manager, Steven? Stefan...had it under control..."  
  
   
  
        "...no one hurt..."         
  
   
  
        "...was closed for only a few hours..."  
  
   
  
    Well...This time it certainly wasn't her fault. The bulbs...Well, they had been...But, this time, she was blame free. She was partially interested in what had happened, but her mind was more focused on her destination.  
  
   
  
    If she could just get to him...She'd be alright. All she had to do was get to where Stefan was so she could reach out and kiss him. There was no reason why she couldn't...Was there?  
  
   
  
    A flash of a woman appeared hazy in her mind...She could make out long, blonde hair, twisted back off a flawless face with a clip, revealing full pink lips and clear blue eyes the color of a sky at dusk, framed with thick, dark, lashes...A stunning body and a beautiful smile that was given to the man beside her...That would be Stefan...  
  
   
  
    Oh, yes...Damn, Bonnie'd forgotten about *her*.   
  
   
  
    A loud, drunken giggle escaped from Bonnie and several people paused to look at her. "Oh, well...I can have him if I want to. She doesn't have to know!" she yelled, as though the people cared. This seemed to be ridiculously funny to Bonnie and she only laughed harder, which made her feet nearly trip over one another as she edged closer and closed to Stefan.  
  
   
  
    "If she can fuck his brother, I can fuck her husband!" Oh, boy...Was this hilarious! Bonnie was practically doubled over with laughter, though her head was thumping with an enormous headache...*Damn music...Someone should tell them to lower the volume...Do they have no respect for anyone else these days? I'm nursing a migraine here!*  
  
   
  
    Finally, Bonnie found herself before Stefan, who had been leaning back against the bar, watching the singers at the head of the dance floor. He seemed to notice her now, however, and his bright green eyes looked surprised at first, then shocked, and then concerned.  
  
   
  
    "Stefan...!" She said, overly enjoyed to see him.   
  
   
  
    "Bonnie...I think I should take you home now." He took a step towards her, about to steady her just as she reached out and slung her arms about his neck.  
  
   
  
    "Sounds good to me, baby..."Her words were slurred.  
  
   
  
    He shook his head, looking dazed and she only giggled again.  
  
   
  
    "Why don't you shut up and kiss me?"  
  
   
  
    "Bonnie, are you stoned?"  
  
   
  
    With that, Bonnie slumped, and she would've fallen to the ground if it hadn't been for Stefan supporting her, as her eyes closed, and she gave into the sheer exhaustion willingly. She couldn't fight it any longer...Bonnie wasn't even quite sure where it had come from.   
  
   
  
    In fact, she didn't even know how she had gotten here. She been outside, taking a walk...She remembered vaguely being on the wrong side of the city...Then all that she could bring forth was feeling as she had a week ago, when she'd been in this very place, drunk on Mud Slides. Now, suddenly drained to the point of collapse, she blacked out, as the darkness that had been swimming on the edges of her vision finally engulfed her.   
  
   
  
      
  
   
  
  


	6. Part 6

    
  
Title: Ravishing Oblivion (6/?)  
  
Author: Janie  
  
Email: SwtAzSugar46@aol.com  
  
Rating: 18+ (Language, adult situations, possible explicit sex scenes, and anything else along the way)  
  
Spoilers: All VD books.  
  
Disclaimers: I do not own LJ Smith's Vampire Diaries or the characters. They belong solely to her and her publishers...Blah blah blah...I use them only for entertainment purposes...Etc.  
  
Summary: After a night of betrayal, Stefan and Elena have moved on. But when unexpectedly Damon shows up just as Bonnie comes to visit, will new desires, unwanted lust, and old flames cause conflict between life-long friends?   
  
Notes: // Indicate telepathy. ** Indicated italics. I assure you, this time the spelling and grammar is much better!! I used a spell checker!! ^_^ Enjoy! And PLEASE, I beg you, review!!!! (Thanks to those who have!! And if anyone can please tell me why my spacing gets messed up when it's sent out to the list, and how to fix it, I'd appreciate it!)  
  
   
  
   
  
~*~  
  
   
  
    Dizzy, so dizzy...So very tired...And through the hazy blackness in her mind, Bonnie could make out drifts of conversation from voices she thought she knew.  
  
   
  
    "...happened to her?" That was a woman's voice, quietly frantic.  
  
   
  
    "...simply passed out...acting strange...thought she was drugged..." This was a man's, tone confused yet intense.  
  
   
  
    "...quite sure she wasn't...not like her at all..."  
  
   
  
    "...something's not right...said she wanted to kiss me..."  
  
   
  
    "...noticed her odd behavior lately...idea what is was..."  
  
   
  
    "...I think it was part of her irrational state of mind..."  
  
   
  
    "...never in my right mind would I have guessed..."   
  
   
  
    "..doesn't have feelings for me, Elena..."  
  
   
  
    "...so sure?"  
  
   
  
    "...possibly want with me? Bonnie's not like that, Elena..."  
  
   
  
    "Yes, I know...Everything's so confusing right now, Stefan..."  
  
   
  
    Oh, yes, I know you two...Stefan...Elena...Names supplied, Bonnie groaned, every breath suddenly painful and demanding quite a lot of energy. Abruptly, the two people she heard stopped talking. Beneath her she could feel the softness of a plush mattress and an oppressing weight on her chest she made out to be a blanket. But she was so cold! Sluggishly, her eyelids opened, blinking, preparing themselves for bright light. There was none.  
  
   
  
    The room was rather dark, lit only by a single lamp on a dresser. Shivering, she moistened dry, cracked lips. Through cloudy vision, she watched as Elena moved over to the bed, gazing down at her, maternally placing a hand on Bonnie's cool forehead, brushing back curls. Stefan followed suit a moment later, reaching down to cover her with another, thicker blanket as his wife said, "She's freezing. Maybe she needs a doctor."  
  
   
  
    "I think she'll be alright. I don't know exactly what happened, but she seems to be alright, with the exception of being extremely weak. We'll keep her in bed and if she doesn't improve with plenty of rest and food, I'll bring her..."  
  
   
  
    Bonnie's eyelids were heavy, but she struggled to keep them lifted. Slowly, she turned her head, mass of red curls falling away from her neck and spilling onto a pillow.   
  
   
  
    A gasp. Elena's hand went to her mouth. "Stefan..."  
  
   
  
    He moved to her side, one hand placed on her shoulder, peering down. "What is it? I don't--" He suddenly ended his sentence, as his eyes registered the brutal marks on the alabaster throat. He made a noise of disgust, with a sharp movement of his head. Fingers gripped Elena's shoulder and he looked away, his fury palpable. Elena's hand reached up, across her chest to place atop of his.  
  
   
  
    "Bastard." Stefan's voice was nearly shaking with rage.  
  
   
  
    "We don't know he did it."  
  
   
  
    "Like hell we don't!"  
  
   
  
    "Stefan--"  
  
   
  
    Her words were cut off as a murmur from Bonnie came from the bed. "Damon..." It was whispered, her voice was hoarse and unused sounding, but they made the one word out easily.  
  
   
  
    Green eyes flashed and Stefan shook a hand toward Bonnie, looking at his wife. "See!"  
  
   
  
    "I'm sure he--"  
  
   
  
    "You're defending him, Elena!"  
  
   
  
    She shut her mouth, hurt, letting her hand drop off his -- Perhaps because the words cut closer to the truth than she'd have liked. Her lips were drawn into a thin, straight line, and her voice was clipped as she replied, "She needs food. I'm going to get her something to eat and drink."  
  
   
  
    He nodded, green eyes blazing with his anger. Most was directed at his brother, but a bit was towards his wife, who had openly tried to defend the monster.  
  
   
  
    "I'll stay here and watch her."  
  
   
  
    "Fine." With that, Elena left in search for something to give Bonnie. It was only after she left that a voice, cold and unnerving rang through her head as she remembered. 'Don't think there won't be consequences...'  
  
   
  
    Elena shivered, despite the warmth of the penthouse and fought down a feeling of dread in her stomach. Could she tell? But, no that would be disastrous! If Stefan found out, he'd blame her. After all, she rightfully deserved the blame.  It was her fault Damon was angry, her fault he had chosen to attack Bonnie. She bit her lip as she rummaged through the fridge.  
  
   
  
    He'd also probably kill Damon, the sheer force of his anger could very well make him the stronger of the two.    
  
   
  
   Her throat...Elena felt sick.  Oh, God. She couldn't, wouldn't let him hurt Bonnie again.  
  
   
  
    In the bedroom, the dark haired man sat by the bed, head in hands.  
  
   
  
    How could Damon do something like this? Be so cruel, so *evil*? Stefan scoffed at himself. Because he was Damon. And Damon did things like that. He fucked other people's wives and tortured their friend's...Stefan's hands were clenched into fists at his sides. And Elena had thought, if only for a moment, that possibly Damon didn't do it!  
  
    It was a good 20 minutes or so that Stefan became lost in thought.  
  
   
  
    * '...Why don't you shut up and kiss me?' * Images from hours before flashed in his mind and Bonnie's words sounded clear, as though she were speaking then and there. * 'Sounds good to me, baby...' *  
  
   
  
    Stefan blinked, trying to summon the rage of moments before, but it was gradually being reduced and changed...Turning into another feeling...One that made him lift his head, thankful for the dark interior of the bedroom, as his cheeks felt on fire.  
  
   
  
    His eyes, trained for the night, picked out the shape of the woman on the bed...Running over the curves of her hips, the rise of her breasts, as she restlessly tossed about in the bed, the comforter moving off to one side as she shifted.  
  
   
  
    Thick, red curls framed a heart-shaped face that no longer portrayed the giddy 17-year-old he knew from past years. Instead, her face was that of a woman: lovely, mature. Shapely lips, long lashes that fluttered with whatever she was seeing in her mind...  
  
   
  
    Again, he saw the pictures...Her head thrown back in laughter as they had watched a movie on the television the night she'd first arrived...A tight dress clinging to her voluptuous body, one so different from the one his hands were used to touching every night... as they moved together to a heavy beat, faces flushed from the heat of dancing...The feel of her arms about his neck, his hands on her waist as they moved...Big brown eyes full of enjoyment...  
  
   
  
    *STOP IT!* his mind screamed, but even as he shook himself out of reveries of a woman he should only regard as a friend, his hand had moved out to touch the soft spirals of wine colored tresses and bring one to his lips...He couldn't help but notice the sweet  scent of her hair.  
  
   
  
    He abruptly pulled back, standing up hurriedly, and walking over to the window, opening it slightly and taking deep breaths. *Think of Elena...*  
  
   
  
     It was only in the heat of the moment, wasn't it? The craziness of the situation, the sense of confusion and remorse, the undeniable urge to want to truly kill his brother...for a second time...Wasn't it?  
  
   
  
    Her delirious mind frame putting wild, nonsensical thoughts into his head...Her insane suggestions simply working their way into his head, making him think strange thoughts.  
  
   
  
    ...Thoughts that caused him to blush, set a slow burning in his stomach and ignited an unmistakable desire in his veins.  
  
   
  
    Fingers clenched the windowsill, knuckles turning white. The moonlight glinted off a silver band studded with diamonds.   
  
   
  
    This was crazy. Ludicrous. He had a wife.  
  
   
  
    But the blonde cascade of hair and the pair of cobalt blue eyes he tried to envision kept morphing into crimson ringlets and eyes the color of rich honey.  
  
   
  
    And as he looked down at the ring, which he knew had inscribed on the inside of the band part of his vows, his stomach clenched. He couldn't seem to forget the way soft curls felt against his lips...  
  
   
  
***  
  
   
  
      
  
    Dark blue met midnight black.  
  
   
  
    "Don't touch her again."  
  
   
  
    Lips contorted into a scornful smirk. "Or what, Elena? Just what do you plan on doing about it?" One brow lifted in mockery. "That sounds familiar, somehow...I believe we've been through this before, once upon a time. I also believe, if I remember correctly, that I was more than thorough in showing you *exactly* what I can do."  
  
   
  
    Elena took a step closer, daring him to challenge her more. "I'm aware."  
  
   
  
    His laugh this time was anything but enticing. It made her blood run cold. Briefly, she wondered if she was insane. Pushing him like this.  
  
   
  
     "Two can play at this game." He was deathly serious. "Don't make me hurt you, Elena."  
  
   
  
    Eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't dare. And you know it."  
  
   
  
    "Oh, wouldn't I?" He taunted.  
  
   
  
    Confident, if rather stupidly so, she shook her head. "No. You wouldn't, actually."  
  
   
  
    Damon rested back against a gnarled tree trunk. For a moment he let his gaze wander above her head, drifting off around the park. It was late, although a few stragglers were still hanging around the area, but Damon was sated. He'd had his fill...  
  
   
  
    He swung dark eyes back to Elena. The moon was full that night and the light that shined from it through the treetops made Elena look unearthly and all the more enchanting. His gaze bore directly into hers, and he was a bit surprised, but not totally thrown off by her display of strong-will.  "What makes you say that?"  
  
   
  
    This time it was her turn to laugh. It was a bitter laugh that escaped from her lips as she regarded him critically, letting her eyes lazily trail down along him. "Because," she started, taking yet another step closer, "you want me too much."  
  
   
  
    She saw him take a breath but he made no reply.  
  
   
  
    "And if you kill me," she whispered, even shocking herself as she leaned forward to rest her palms against the tree bark on either side of Damon, level with the middle of his arms, "you can't have me."  
  
   
  
    Damon's chest rose and fell with another deep breath and it took a moment for him to speak. When he did, however, his voice was as she knew it: arrogant and unashamed. "Is that an invitation?" They were close enough that as he spoke, she could feel his breath against her lips.  
  
   
  
    He caught her gaze, and their eyes locked.   
  
   
  
    He leaned in.  She pulled away.  
  
   
  
    "This isn't about me."  
  
   
  
    "Isn't it?"  
  
   
  
    "No. This is about Bonnie, and what you did to her."  
  
   
  
    He unfolded his arms, stretching, giving off the appearance of disinterest. "What's done is done, *cara*. And I can't change that fact."  
  
   
  
    "What you did was *wrong*. Sick. Cruel."  
  
   
  
   "Is that how you perceive me, Elena? I really don't think it is."  
  
   
  
    She was silent, choosing her words carefully. Then she threw her hands up and said, "Stop bringing this back to me, damnit!"  
  
   
  
    "Fine." He sighed, bored. "She's alive, isn't she?"  
  
   
  
    "Yes. Barely."  
  
   
  
    "Oh, please. Spare me, Elena. I left her knowing she wasn't going to die. If I had wanted to kill her, there would have been much more enjoyable ways to do so."  
  
   
  
    In the distance, car horns blared, and off to her right somewhere, music could be heard.  
  
      
  
    "Don't play with me, Damon. I could have let Stefan tear you from limb to limb for what you did the other night."  
  
   
  
    He seemed nonchalant. "How unfortunate you didn't. I wouldn't have minded a little fun and games."  
  
   
  
    "I'm serious," she hissed. "You could have killed her, damn you!"  
  
   
  
    "But I didn't."   
  
   
  
    He was unaffected by her near boiling point. Her nails bit into the flesh of her palms. For a long, drawn out moment, she simply glared at him. Hatred blocked her ability to speak. He broke the silence.  
  
   
  
    "Why didn't you?"  
  
   
  
    She looked at him, confused. "Why didn't I what?"  
  
   
  
    "Let your darling husband try what he liked."  
  
   
  
    "Because--" She broke off.  
  
   
  
    He seemed to find this amusing. "Yes?"  
  
   
  
    "Because..." Again, she trailed off. Both embarrassed and annoyed, she looked down, staring into the blades of grass at her feet.  
  
   
  
    "Because why, Elena?" His voice was now a murmur. He'd stepped up to her again and she found herself raising her eyes to meet him. She felt her anger dissolving.  
  
   
  
    His head tilted off to one side as he watched her through hooded eyes, one hand gently lifted her chin farther up to meet his gaze, and his hand did not drop from cupping her face.  
  
   
  
    "Because you want this? You crave the touch you gave up? The bliss you allowed yourself only one night?" His words were an erotic purr. "Stop fighting this, Elena. You want me as much as I want you…"  
  
      
  
    She found she couldn't form a coherent sentence. Not with her blood racing as though she were running an  Olympic marathon; not with her face suddenly so flushed from the sensual purr of his voice; not when all thoughts of her husband were vanished and being replaced by the ever-growing need to be touched by this man again.  
  
   
  
    "Don't deny you find yourself up at night, thinking, remembering, wondering...what it would be like? Wondering if you've forgotten the way my lips feel on yours, trailing over your skin as you shiver...The way my hands feel running down along the curve of your breasts, hips, the skin of your thighs...Until you can barely contain it and it makes you want to cry out--"  
  
      
  
    He was silenced as she reached out, pulled him against her...Her lips seeking and finding his.  
  
   
  
    The kiss was heated, their touches needy, craving, yearning...Attempting to quench both of their avid want.  
  
   
  
    All thoughts of Bonnie disappeared from Elena's mind...That life, the life she led with another, seemed so distant now, as her hands tore at his clothing, his lips leaving fire in their wake.  
  
   
  
    He gave a muffled groan against her lips, both of them breathing heavily. He pushed her back against the base of a tree, his mouth hungrily, roughly, moving against hers, their movements rushed as though they couldn't devour one another quick enough.  
  
   
  
    The taste of her was enough to drive him wild with lust. No, he hadn't forgotten the way she tasted...the way she felt. Back firmly pressed against the trunk of the giant oak, Elena's legs lifted to wrap around him and with a stifled moan, he drove into her.  
  
He pounded into her, Elena's backside hitting the bark of the tree, her heart pounded. Panting, they continued, her nails scraping down along the flesh of his back. His eyes clenched shut and he groaned. Both of their bodies were damp with perspiration.  
  
His hands clutched at her rear, holding her to him as he thrusted, his name on her lips as she tilted her head back.  
  
   
  
    Unbeknownst to them, as they worked their way into a heated frenzy, finally exploding in their passion as Elena cried out, and moments later shifted to stand on shaky legs, a shadow lurked nearby. Damon nearly slumped against her, breathing raggedly.  
  
   
  
    And as they moved, both lying there together on the damp ground of the park, a pair of forest green eyes had been watching the entire time.   
  
   
  
~*~  
  
   
  
    
  
    Till death do us part.      
  
      
  
    Whatever.  
  
   
  
    He tossed the ring onto the dresser with a numb feeling in his heart. His entire body cried out for Elena, for their love that had once been imperishable, invincible; but mostly it screamed for the woman he thought he knew. The woman who had onced vowed to stand by him in sickness and in health.  
  
   
  
     But she had done it. Done it again.  
  
   
  
    And this time, he didn't know if he could forgive her. But he didn't hate her. He couldn't hate her. Not when so much love still burned inside him. Not when he couldn't be entirely sure he wouldn't throw himself into her arms when she came back home. Beg her to take him back and let him change whatever had caused her to turn away and find pleasure in another's arms.  
  
   
  
    Green eyes were pained as he stared into the mirror, and he wanted to smash the reflection he saw there. Weak. He was weak.  
  
   
  
    Eyes in the mirror shifted to view the bed where a tiny form lay resting. She was healing rapidly. He turned to face her now and watched as she stirred. A tiny yawn could be heard. He leaned against the dresser as her gaze met his from across the room.  
  
   
  
    "Stefan?" Bonnie's words were soft but nonetheless seemed to shatter the silence.  
  
   
  
    "Yes, it's me."  
  
   
  
    He walked over to the bed where he then stood, looking down at her for a long time. To Bonnie, he was waging an inner war. Finally, he seemed to come to some sort of decision as hands drew back the blankets and he slid in beside her small, lovely form.  
  
   
  
    She shifted onto her side, brown hues studying him intensely. They seemed to see within his soul.  
  
   
  
     He knew another pair of eyes that did that. But they were blue.                    
  
   
  
    She waited, hesitant, as though allowing him to make sure he was entirely positive this was where he wanted to be.  
  
   
  
    When he didn't move to leave her, she edged closer, and finally wrapped her arms around him. He was gentle as he drew her close, as she was still very much weak. The scent of her was powerful as he burried into her silky hair, easing her onto her back and gazing down at her.  
  
   
  
    She smiled fondly at him, the adoration in her eyes enough to nearly make him break down. Before he even knew what was happening, he'd kissed her.  
  
   
  
    "Stefan," she breathed, and his heart pounded.  
  
   
  
    He was careful as he slowly began to touch her, his hands finding the supple skin of her breasts beneath the nightgown she wore. Her breath caught and came in tiny gasps as he lifted the nightgown over her head, the material bunching in his hands before he let it drop to the floor.   He kissed her again, his hands wandering down along the silky, creamy skin of hers. He was careful to stray away from her neck.  
  
   
  
    Somehow, this felt right. Well...for now, at least, he could pretend it was.  
  
   
  
    It was only fair, was it not? If his wife could have another, so could he.   
  
   
  
    His kisses were light, caresses slow and soft. She felt fragile in his arms and he was careful not to hurt her.  He felt himself loosing control as she touched him back.  
  
      
  
     Suddenly, she paused, easing her lips from his and drawing back slightly to regard him curiously. Something had occurred to her.  
  
   
  
      "Where's Elena?"  
  
    His answer was self-contained, controlled. He could've been talking about the chip in the paint above the headboard he was that indifferent. His green eyes met hers and she saw nothing but desire in them. "It doesn't matter now."  
  
                  
  
~*~  
  
     
  
  


	7. Part 7

~*~  
  
   
  
  
  
    Her eyes met his in the dark.  
  
She was silent as she stood in the doorway of their large bedroom but he could feel her rage. Her eyes were a mixture of fury and remorse. He was sure in his own eyes that the same emotions could be seen.  
  
Soundlessly, he watched his wife turn her head to look at the sleeping form beside him, who just now was stark naked, and whose legs lay intertwined with his atop the bedspread.  
  
Wordlessly, the woman in the doorway swung her gaze to her husband, and even in the dark her eyes seemed to be ablaze. She then ripped the ring from her finger and heaved it across the room where it careened off the wall with a metallic clink.  
  
With that, she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out.  
  
***  
  
   
  
Two nights later:  
  
/I saw you. In the park/  
  
  
  
/I realized shortly afterwards when I thought I heard a voice. I panicked and then, when I reached out with my mind, I sensed you/  
  
/I suppose you were coming to apologize?/  
  
/Yes. But it's too late for that/  
  
/I'm sorry/  
  
/Save it/  
  
/Don't be like that/  
  
/How do you expect me to be, Stefan?/  
  
/You're to blame as much as I am/  
  
/I was going to apologize. Apparently, I stumbled in at an inopportune moment/  
  
She could sense his sheepish feeling and though they were in two different places entirely, she could imagine his cheeks were faintly colored.  
  
/Elena…That's not fair!/  
  
/Don't bother. We're even now/  
  
/Not quite/ The voice in her head was sarcastic.  
  
/Oh, that's right. You're off by one. Go on then. Fuck her/  
  
/My God, Elena--/  
  
/Oh, don't pretend you don't want to/  
  
/I--/  
  
/Just stop. Let's end it/  
  
/End it? But--/  
  
/I meant our conversation. Get out of my head/  
  
/Do you love him?/  
  
There was no reply. She'd put up a shield.  
  
***  
  
Two weeks later:   
  
    "I can't do this."  
  
   
  
    She looked astonished. "What do you mean?"  
  
   
  
    "I just can't do this. It's wrong, and you know it."  
  
   
  
    "What we feel for one another isn't wrong. Look what your wife did to you!"  
  
   
  
    "Bonnie, forgive me, but I simply cannot go through with this any longer. With each kiss I feel more tainted."  
  
   
  
    "Tainted?" Brown eyes were filled with grief. "You feel *tainted*? Am I that revolting?"  
  
   
  
    "Stop that nonsense. You know what I meant."  
  
   
  
    "Apparently, you can't bear to touch me."  
  
   
  
    "That's not true."  
  
   
  
    "Then do it. Take me right now."  
  
   
  
    "I said I can't do this anymore, Bonnie. It's ending, and it's got to end tonight."  
  
   
  
    "But why, Stefan? I saw the way you looked at me!"  
  
   
  
    "It was a distraction! It was nothing remotely close to love."  
  
      
  
    "Bullshit."  
  
   
  
    He sighed. "Alright, I'll admit it. I...care for you a great deal. But this is all it can be. I cannot continue to find comfort and pleasure in your arms. Not when I still love Elena."  
  
   
  
    Elena and Stefan  had gone through almost two weeks without speaking to one another, passing each other with expressions bearing the weight of their wrongs, but neither could bring themselves to speak to the other again or attempt apology. They hadn't even fought. She had stalked out after removing her ring; however, they had had no words -- Though her rage was clear and hovered about her as through it thrummed in the very air of their bedroom. Bonnie had shut herself up in her room completely and refused to come down; she came out only to eat. Stefan had not slept in his bed once in that duration of time, though he had lingered in the doorway as Elena slept, watching, yearning...Breaking.  
  
   
  
    "How can you love her when she obviously has no trouble ripping out your heart and stomping on it? You're in love with a whore, Stefan."  
  
   
  
    "Don't you *ever* call her--"  
  
   
  
    Bonnie broke in, vehemently. "But you know damn well its true, Stefan Salvatore!"  
  
   
  
    He took in deep breaths and exhaled slowly. He studied the redhead before him, her anger compensating for her short stature.  
  
   
  
    "My wife," he said dangerously, "is no whore."  
  
   
  
    "You're a blind idiot, then. She's fucked you over twice. With you brother."  
  
   
  
    "She's made mistakes, granted. But--"  
  
   
  
    "But nothing, Stefan. Elena is a two-timing, panting little slut who sees no harm in--"  
  
   
  
    "ENOUGH!" He roared, and Bonnie had the good sense to shut her mouth, taking a step back. She had never seen Stefan so angry with her and she was frightened.   
  
   
  
    "Stefan, I--"  
  
   
  
    "I know what you meant, Bonnie. Don't bother apologizing."  
  
   
  
    "It's just that I love you, Stefan. And I don't understand how you'll go back to a woman who doesn't love you."  
  
   
  
    "She does."  
  
   
  
    "Then why does she do what she does?"  
  
   
  
    "Bonnie, I don't know. She was always weak when it came to Damon. But I know Elena loves me regardless."  
  
   
  
   She snapped, "Maybe you should ask her, then. I'm simply dying to find out."  
  
   
  
   Green eyes glimmered with hostility. "Don't."  
  
   
  
    "Don't what, Stefan? Don't speak the truth? Don't call your wife names she rightfully deserves, names she brought upon herself by her disgusting behavior?"  
  
   
  
    "Bonnie, I said enough. Don't push me. Besides, may I remind you, you're the woman who was dying to fuck me, a married man? Your best friend's husband?"  
  
   
  
    Brown eyes glared. "Fine, take her back. But when she drops you *again* when she decides she's bored and wants another good roll in the sack with Damon, don't say I didn't warn you."  
  
   
  
    "As far as I know, she hasn't gone back to him since I found out."  
  
   
  
    "Because she's scared."  
  
   
  
    "She's not going to." His voice was firm.  
  
   
  
    "Three's the charm, Stefan. She did it twice, she'll do it again."  
  
   
  
    "Inside of her, lost somewhere, there's the woman I married. I will get her back."  
  
   
  
    "So very sure of yourself, Stefan. I have to give you credit. Especially when you chase after a woman who no longer wants you and throw away a woman who does."  
  
   
  
    He turned to walk away from her then, pausing in the doorway of the room. "I can't help the way you feel. I care for you a lot, Bonnie, but you're not the one I'm in love with. I already have a wife."  
  
   
  
    "One who doesn't give a shit about you..."  
  
   
  
    He shook his head, one hand on the molding of the doorframe. He didn't retort to that, instead he added, "I'm sorry I lead you on, used you, even, but this has got to stop."  
  
   
  
    "I'm just sorry it ever began."  
  
   
  
***  
  
    "God damn you!" she screamed.  
  
   
  
    "Don't you *dare* try and criticize me when you've done this over and over again!" he shot back.  
  
   
  
    "You should have left me then!" A glass shattered against the wall. That made number two.  
  
   
  
    "But I didn't! I stood by you!" He leaned across the countertop.  
  
   
  
    Silence.  
  
   
  
    "Because I *loved* you. Do you comprehend what love is anymore? Do you even remember in the slightest what we once had?"  
  
   
  
    Stefan found he could not summon any hate towards this woman, could not find it in him to loathe her, despise her for breaking his heart.  
  
   
  
    He had to grip the counter's edge as he watched her pretty face crumble, blue eyes welling up and lining with the silver sheen of tears. Her chin quivered and she looked away.  
  
   
  
    "Don't you throw this all away on me, Elena. Not now." Stefan's voice had become lower-pitched, almost pleading. "Don't give up on us; don't walk away from what we have."  
  
   
  
    "Had," she corrected and instantly wished she hadn't.  
  
   
  
    His fist slammed down on the Corrian counter. "Damnit, Elena! It was out of desperation! What I saw *killed* me and I found the refuge I needed in her. Can you blame me?!"  
  
   
  
    "Oh, don't give me that!" The blonde blinked back tears, frustrated. "Don't even try to deny you have no feelings for Bonnie! I know you better that that, Stefan."  
  
   
  
    "Why must you swing this back to me? *You're* the one who has fucked my brother more than once!"  
  
   
  
    She stared at him from the other side of the kitchen counter. Her voice seemed to catch in her throat but she forced out, "But I don't love him."  
  
   
  
    "Don't you?" Green eyes were immersed in anguish, dark with despair.  
  
      
  
    Elena could meet his gaze no longer, tearing her eyes away as helpless tears ran forth, dripped down her cheeks in rivulets that fell onto the counter.  
  
   
  
    "You do, I know you do."  
  
   
  
    "Do you love her?" Elena fired back, though her tone was not so much heated with anger as it was broken by sadness.  
  
   
  
    He was quiet for a moment. Stefan looked down at his hands and then raised his gaze to hers. "I don't know much of anything anymore, Elena..."  
  
   
  
    She sniffed, hands lifting to her face to hastily wipe away remnants of tears. "I think you do."  
  
   
  
    "What I feel for her is nothing compared to my love of you. No matter what, Elena, you will always be my heart, my soul, my everything."  
  
   
  
    "Does it matter anymore?" Her voice shook and another tear escaped.  
  
   
  
    He wanted nothing more than to go to her, wrap her in his arms and hold her forever. Tell her everything was going to be alright again. But he didn't.   
  
   
  
    "God, yes, Elena! Of course it does! Don't you understand? But you brought this upon yourself, you know."  
  
   
  
    "What's left to understand? I betrayed you and you betrayed me," she answered softly.  
  
   
  
    "Understand that I love you!"  
  
   
  
    Her voice broke as she whispered, "But you love her, too..." A renewed flow of fresh tears spilled over her flushed face and her shoulders shook in sobs.  
  
   
  
    "But not in the way I love you, Elena." Stefan looked at her, standing there before him, hysterically crying, shoulders wracking with sobs. His heart ached for her, for them. "Despite the way you hurt me, the way you tore something out of my heart that night, I will continue to love you. Always. Nothing can take that away from me, *diletta*. I *believe* in those vows we took to one another that summer afternoon. I have faith in forever...with you. Not her."  
  
   
  
    "Stefan...Stefan, Stefan, Stefan..." She whispered over and over again, her words quivering with her tears as she fought another urge to break down.   
  
   
  
    He moved a bit closer, stepping over the shattered shards of glass. Elena raised tormented blue eyes to him, and he could see the guilt in them, the shame, the feeling of desolate loss that mirrored his own. "Don't leave me, Stefan. I won't leave you again...Please, oh please, Stefan!" She started crying again, and she could barely speak coherently through her tears. "Forgive me one last time, take me back..."  
  
   
  
    Stefan went to her then, embracing her. For once, she seemed fragile, as if her body would crumble into dust in his arms. "Oh, Elena, you know I will..."  
  
      
  
    "I'm sorry, Stefan!" Lapis lazuli eyes gazed into his imploringly. "I was such a fool!" Elena clung to him, shaking. "I don't deserve you."  
  
   
  
    "Shh..." He stroked her hair, lovingly, trying to ease her shaking, stop her tears.   
  
   
  
    "No, I mean it. What I did was awful, Stefan. You should hate me." She drew away to stare into his beautiful eyes. "I give you permission to leave me, if that's what you want."  
  
   
  
    "I wouldn't...I could never."  
  
   
  
    There was an ache in her chest, her entire being longed to make this a bad dream. "I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you."  
  
   
  
    "Just say you love me."  
  
   
  
    "I love you." She spoke hushed, and as the words left her lips she found herself crying again. "I love you, Stefan."  
  
   
  
    She embraced him again and he kissed her, and he could taste the salt of her tears intermingled with his own. "I love you, Elena Salvatore," he mumbled against her lips, his hands soothing, running along her back.  
  
   
  
    "I swear to you, you have my heart. Forever and always. I swear on my soul."  
  
   
  
    "As you have mine." His forehead rested against hers.  
  
   
  
    "I should have never doubted it."   
  
   
  
    "Till death do us part?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out her ring, which she had, in her rage at finding him with Bonnie, pulled from her finger and flung at the wall.  
  
   
  
   She nodded firmly, a trembling smile on her lips.  "Till death do us part." She had, without his awareness, taken his ring which she'd found on their dresser so many nights ago when she had come home, feeling world-weary and disgusted with herself, and seen a sight she thought she'd never see.  
  
   
  
    He kissed her again as she held out her hand. He slipped on her ring, where it once again sat on her slender finger. Where it should remain forever. He brushed strands of hair off her damp cheeks where they had clung to her.  
  
   
  
    She took his hand, which surprised him, and brought it to her lips. With a breath, she then eased on his own band, lacing her fingers through his and resting her head on his shoulder, wishing she could simply mesh her body and soul with his and become one for eternity.  
  
   
  
    At the top of the stairs, a redheaded woman stood listening the entire time. She sank to her knees, put her head in her hands, and began to cry.  
  
   
  
    Neither of the two in the kitchen even heard her.  
  
   
  
   *** 


	8. Part 8

    
  
   
  
~*~  
  
   
  
    Quietly, she took a step into the living room. From her spot on the couch, blue eyes shifted to meet honeyed brown. Instantly, the one on the couch seemed to tense, and cold, open hostility was clear in her  expression. The other, lingering now a step or two closer, sucked in a sharp breath. She looked down. The one on the couch made no sound to speak, instead, stiffly, she stood and started to leave the room.  
  
   
  
    "Elena, wait."  
  
   
  
    The blonde paused in the doorway but made no move to turn around.  
  
   
  
    "Can..." A pause, a sigh. "Can we talk?"  
  
   
  
    "I have nothing to say to you."  
  
   
  
    "Elena, *please*. We need to discuss this."  
  
   
  
    Finally, Elena turned around to face the redhead who stood in the middle of her living room, flickering flames lighting up Bonnie's red hair, reflecting copper undertones. She lifted her chin, an air of calm authority about her, and spoke firmly. "I don't think people who betray me deserve to be spoken to."  
  
   
  
    Bonnie looked desperate. "Oh, Elena...! Don't you see--"  
  
   
  
    "No," the blonde cut her off sharply, "I don't see, *Bonnie*. But I do know that I no longer have a best friend. She hurt me beyond repair."  
  
   
  
    "Oh, for Christ's sake, Elena. Just because your husband seems to think you're heaven-sent doesn't mean you are. You've done some shit in your lifetime, as I recall, and yet you're so quick to point fingers."  
  
   
  
    A blonde eyebrow quirked, but Elena seemed undaunted. She stood there in the doorway, arms tightly crossed beneath her chest, and studied her friend with a cold gaze. "Notice the word 'husband' in your sentence, Bonnie McCullough? Yes, that's right...*Husband*, MY husband, damnit!"  
  
   
  
    Bonnie smirked, and Elena had to give her silent credit for developing quite a backbone. "No, why don't *you* notice the word "husband", Elena? Or did you forget again that you have one? Oh, yes, that's right...You seem to think you're free to fuck his brother whenever you please...As though that ring on your finger means nothing."  
  
   
  
    If looks could kill, Bonnie was pretty positive she'd be dead right about...now.   
  
   
  
    "Couldn't you go suppress your urges with someone else?" she quipped.  
  
   
  
    "Like you should talk," Bonnie retored, eyes narrowed.  
  
      
  
    "At least Stefan and Damon had no bond, damn you! We have a friendship, or did you not stop and think of that as you fucked my husband? In MY BED, for God's sake?!"  
  
   
  
    "At least I care about him!"  
  
   
  
    "DON'T YOU DARE SAY I DON'T CARE ABOUT MY HUSBAND!"  
  
   
  
    Bonnie laughed bitterly. "Well, Elena, seems to me you make it pretty apparent when you go off and screw his brother!"  
  
   
  
    "Fuck you, Bonnie McCullough." Elena whirled away, but Bonnie's voice stopped her.  
  
   
  
    "Don't you walk away from me, Elena."  
  
   
  
    She turned. "What's left to say, Bonnie? I can at least admit what I did was wrong, but you...YOU! You can't even have the decency to apologize for stabbing me in the back!"  
  
   
  
    "Oh, oh no you didn't." The redhead raised her eyes upwards, shaking her head of curls. "You did *not* just lecture *me* on decency...!"  
  
   
  
    "Bonnie, I swear to God, if you don't shut--"  
  
   
  
    "What, Elena? What are you going to do? Can you honestly say you can defend yourself when you know as well as I do, as well as STEFAN does, that you're the reason for all of this?"  
  
   
  
    "The reason for all of this? Bonnie, you really are something, ya' know that?" Elena stepped a few feet closer to the woman in the center of the room. "The reason," she continued, her voice  now calm, but beneath the surface, her anger was evident, "for all of this, is that I *had* a friend who is a panting whore who slept with my own husband." Elena's head canted to one side. "The *reason* for all of this is that you...You are a bitch who feels she can simply waltz into my home...and right into my bed...Steal my husband and call it justified."  
  
   
  
    For a moment, Bonnie was silent and beneath the quietly, almost eerily calm exterior of Elena, she knew rage was barely being held in check. And she was right. Elena wanted to kill the woman before her.  
  
   
  
    "You've got some nerve to tell me *I* try and justify my wrongdoings! Elena, did it even occur to you once while you gave yourself to Damon, panting like the slut you are, that you had a husband? That there was a man at home who loved you, who *trusted* you?"  
  
   
  
    Elena scoffed, looking incredulous. "Excuse me? I believe it's *you* who's mislead about the concept of *trust*. I trusted you, Bonnie. A friendship built on trust was what I thought this to be. But I was wrong. Friends don't sleep with other friend's husbands. May I remind you that you are the woman who all along was scheming after Stefan? And you try and tell me that I'm not to be trusted? Alright, Bonnie."  
  
   
  
    "I think--"  
  
   
  
    Elena broke in. "Has it not clicked that I don't give a damn what you think of me? All along you wanted him." She shook her head, making a noise of disgust. "I let you into my home...And this is how you repay me?"  
  
   
  
    "Oh, shut up, Elena. Had it not been for me, you're darling husband would've probably killed himself."  
  
   
  
    Elena's face was flushed with her animosity. "He knows I love him."  
  
   
  
    "Yeah, well, maybe you should've made it a little more clearer and fucked him once and a while instead of his goddamned brother!"  
  
   
  
    "You mother-fucking--"  
  
   
  
    "You've got that wrong...Don't you mean 'husband-fucking'? And just to let you know, he likes it when I fuck him hard."  
  
   
  
    Elena stepped foward and gave Bonnie a good, hard slap across the face. Brown eyes were shocked and a pale hand lifted to her face in disbelief. Her mouth gaped. The area on her face was turning scarlet and Elena's palm stung. She took advantage of Bonnie's total state of bafflement and gave her a rough shove and watched as she stumbled back into a couch.  
  
   
  
    "You can get the fuck out of my house. Tonight." Elena's voice was once again quiet, but the malicious tone was not gone. Blue eyes were burning with her hatred.   
  
   
  
    Bonnie slowly rose to stand on shaky legs, one hand clutching the arm of the couch for support. Her eyes were on Elena as she retreated.  
  
   
  
    Suddenly, the taller woman paused in the doorway, briefly turning back to face Bonnie with eyes that glimmered with such pure fury that Bonnie was truly in a state of shock.  
  
   
  
    "And while you're at it, you can go to hell."  
  
   
  
***  
  
   
  
    The area behind Ravishing Oblivion was pathetically lit with a poorly lighted lamp in the brick wall of the rear, above the back exit of the club. Inside, it was still jam packed with people but outside there stood only two.  
  
   
  
       Green eyes were smoldering as they held the cooly dispassionate gaze of obsidian.   
  
   
  
    "Just who gave you the right to put your hands on my wife for a second time?"  
  
   
  
    A chuckle. "Go ask her."  
  
   
  
    One arm lashed out as a fist slammed foward and met the flesh of Damon's jaw squarely. He hadn't been expecting that, but he wouldn't let it go unnoticed. He reacted with supernatureal quickness, his reflexes coordinated and fast as he gave a hard punch back.  
  
   
  
    Surprisingly, the younger of the two was burning with strength that night. Whether it was from anger alone or feeding excessively, Damon knew not, but either way, Stefan was not much weaker.  
  
   
  
    Hands gripped the collar of Damon's leather jacket and hefted him up off the damp pavement, the sound of Stefan's heavy breathing sounding loud.  
  
   
  
    "You don't want to fuck with me tonight, Damon. Be grateful I had it in me to forewarn you."  
  
   
  
    Black eyes flashed and he ripped away. Straightening his coat, he lifted his head slightly back in an air of power and command.  
  
   
  
    "I'll never be grateful to you, *fratello piccolo*."  
  
   
  
    Stefan took a menancing step towards his brother. His breathing was quick, sharp inhalations. "I don't know why I ever trusted you."  
  
   
  
    "You should know better by now." The reply was smug.  
  
   
  
    Another step, and then another, and another. Stefan had his brother back against the wall of the club but Damon looked uncaring.  
  
   
  
    "If you ever lay one finger on even an inch of my wife's skin again, I will kill you."  
  
   
  
    A sinister smile. "You couldn't kill me if you tried."  
  
   
  
    Stefan's eyes flecked gold in the hazy light filtering down from the spotlight over the metal door.   
  
   
  
    "Oh, yes I could, brother. Do *not* underestimate me."  
  
   
  
    A shrug. "What would Elena think? Imagine what she'd do if you killed her lover."  
  
   
  
    Stefan growled deep within his throat and his hands shot out to shove Damon roughly up against the brick.   
  
   
  
    " *You* are not her lover," he spat. "Don't tempt me, Damon."  
  
   
  
    "Elena--"  
  
   
  
    "Elena doesn't love you."  
  
   
  
    "I wouldn't be so sure of that, *brother*."  
  
   
  
    Something inside Stefan ached but he wouldn't show that to Damon. Wouldn't dare let him see that his words bore the weight of undesired truth.  
  
   
  
    Silently, the two brothers glared at one another, neither making another move to begin a fight. Stefan's heart pounded beneath his sweater and Damon inhaled deeply.  
  
   
  
    "You're lucky," he said. Stefan was caught offgaurd.  
  
   
  
    "Say what?"  
  
   
  
    Damn took his uncertaintanty as a chance to esacpe and shoved his brother off of him, smirking as Stefan staggered backwards.  
  
   
  
    The taller Salvatore looked suspisciously at the shorter.   
  
   
  
    "I said you're lucky."  
  
   
  
    "What?"  
  
   
  
    "Your wife's a good fuck."  
  
   
  
    Stefan gave a wild cry of ferocity and slammed Damon down onto the concrete. The sheer force of his antipathy was his drive and he pounded Damon with his fists, punching and kicking the body that was his brother's. Too shocked to fight, the first few good punches got in, resulting in a bloody nose and a busted bottom lip. Then, however, he regained his composure and knocked Stefan's feet out from under him, sending him sprawling to the ground.  
  
   
  
    Leaping to his feet, Damon lashed out at his brother with a leg, but Stefan jumped up and went for his brother's throat.  
  
   
  
    "You son-of-a-bitch, I'll kill you!" he bellowed, as Damon was once again throwm up against the wall. Stefan's knee lifted and slammed directly into his groin. Damon cried out. But Stefan wasn't going to win this so easily.  
  
   
  
    With a loud yell, Damon shoved Stefan away again, this time hard enough that he fell to the floor and smacked his head. Taking his brother's yelp of pain as a chance to beat him, he delivered a series of blows to his face. Stefan's head felt dizzy and his vision became cloudy -- He knew in the morning, if he survived, his eye would be black and blue and swollen.   
  
   
  
    A metallic taste of blood seeped into his mouth as his lip began to bleed, and through his hazy eyes, he could see Damon's nose was still bleeding profusely. Good.  
  
   
  
    Stefan tried to fight back, tried to get to his feet, but Damon's foot met his ribcage and he doubled over in agony. *Shit*.  
  
   
  
    "You never learn, Stefan!" Damon's voice was ragged, his breathing labored and Stefan's vision was spotted with strange dots and colors.  
  
   
  
    He didn't know if he was going to live. Oh God...Elena. He hoped she knew how much he loved her, how much she meant to him. He forgave her for it all; nothing could ever make him turn his back on her. He just wished they'd had one more night--  
  
   
  
    "STOP!"  
  
   
  
    Elena had arrived.  
  
   
  
***  
  
   
  
    Abruptly, the kicks to his stomach ceased and Stefan dared to open his eyes as the voice registered in his mind.   
  
      
  
    /Elena!/  
  
   
  
    "Oh, Stefan!" she rushed to him, throwing herself bravely, if somewhat dumbly, inbetween them. She was crying, her hair wild and untamed as she knelt beside her husband.  
  
   
  
    Something crackled in the air as though her anger was visably thrumming like electricity in the darkness. Her blue eyes held repulsion as she glared up at Damon. He stepped back.  
  
   
  
    "What did you do to him!"  
  
   
  
    Damon, to her bewilderment, looked just the slightest bit caught off guard but he quickly covered it up.   
  
   
  
    "I gave him what he deserved," he answered, wiping at the drying blood on his mouth.  
  
   
  
    Elena's hand was cool against Stefan's damp forehead and he reached up to touch her face lovingly. "If you did anything that he doesn't heal from, I'll hunt you down, Damon."  
  
   
  
    "Then what, Elena? Get me back?" Midnight eyes were mocking.  
  
   
  
    "I swear to God I will never forgive you--"  
  
   
  
    "He'll be fine. He'll live, anyway."  
  
   
  
    "Fuck you."  
  
   
  
    "I believe you've already handled that...Quite nicely if I may add."  
  
   
  
    She shook her head angrily, glancing to her husband and brushing his hair off his brow. Blue eyes rose to meet black again.  
  
   
  
    "It's over."  
  
   
  
    One brow raised. "Come again?"  
  
   
  
    "It's over. You and me. For good."  
  
   
  
    His eyes were cruel but beneath it Elena sensed his hurt, though she knew she'd be damned if he'd ever admit it.  
  
   
  
    Damon looked to Stefan for a moment, whose attention was riveted on his wife, before he returned his gaze to Elena.   
  
   
  
    "I'm serious. Don't come near me again, Damon."  
  
   
  
    He was silent, simply watching her with a saturnine expression.  
  
   
  
    She cradled Stefan in her arms and gently helped him to stand, one arm around him as she held him up. "I've got you, it's alright. Let's go home, Stefan."  
  
   
  
    As she walked away, Elena looked to Damon. There was a flicker of pain in her blue eyes but she braced herself. "Goodbye." For just an instant, she reached out to fondly touch his cheek, but then she abruptly pulled away.  
  
   
  
    /Elena./  
  
   
  
    She faultered for just a moment, but didn't stop. /Yes?/  
  
   
  
    /I'm sorry/  
  
   
  
    Elena did stop then. Shocked, she whipped around. He was gone.  
  
   
  
    That was the only apology she had ever recieved from Damon Salvatore, and mostlikely, the only one she'd ever get.  
  
   
  
    She reached out with her mind but felt nothing. A part of her died then, as somewhere inside of her the gap in her heart widened that much more.  
  
   
  
    Stefan was her life, and this was the last time she'd ever betray him -- She was done with that and loved him far too much to let herself put him through that any more.   
  
   
  
    But although her love for him was indescribeable and far too great to be effectively put into words, a part of her heart would always belong to another. One with dark hair and eyes the color of onyx.  
  
   
  
~*~ 


	9. Part 9

Musical Credits: George Micheals – "Careless Whisper"  
  
~*~  
  
   
  
-- I feel so unsure,  
  
As I take your hand,  
  
And lead you to the dance floor,  
  
As the music dies,  
  
Something in your eyes,  
  
Calls to mind a silver screen,  
  
And all its sad goodbyes... --  
  
    His eyes were dismal as they met her gaze. Cinnamon. That's what they reminded him of. Cinnamon and...Honey. They moved together slowly on the dance floor; tonight's songs were designed to be out of the "norm" -- In other words, they were not heavy metal or punk or rock. It had still drawn a crowd of paying customers, to which Stefan was grateful.  
  
   
  
    "You're leaving New York tonight?"  
  
   
  
    "Yes. It's better this way."  
  
   
  
    A slow nod.   
  
   
  
    "I hurt her and if I stay here it will only cause a greater rift."  
  
   
  
    "She'll forgive you eventually."   
  
   
  
    The redhead before him looked doubtful. "No, I don't think so. This time, I think she's going to hate me forever."  
  
   
  
    "Do you blame her?"  
  
   
  
    "No, not exactly. But I can't apologize to her, Stefan. When I still don't see what I did as being wrong."  
  
   
  
    "Bonnie--"  
  
   
  
    "Don't, Stefan. You're words won't change my mind. Maybe you should try some of that "pep talk" on your wife."  
  
   
  
    Stefan sighed, green hues roaming the club for any sign of Elena. They'd come in together; she'd excused herself when Stefan noticed Bonnie and so had left Stefan to say his goodbyes. She understood he cared about Bonnie more than one would for a friend, but she also recognized that his heart was hers and hers alone.  
  
   
  
    They were silent once again, letting the music drift over them. Bonnie found it suited them aptly.  
  
   
  
    "I'll miss you, you know..."  
  
   
  
    "Yes, I know. But I think it would be best if you didn't call for a while. Or write."  
  
   
  
    "But--"  
  
   
  
    "Bonnie, you know we can't keep this flame burning. It's time to put the candle out. You know I love Elena and however I feel towards you has got to start ending..."  
  
   
  
    Brown eyes blinked back tears and Stefan felt a lurch in his stomach. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.  
  
   
  
    "Don't cry. Please don't cry," he whispered.  
  
      
  
    "It's so hard..."  
  
      
  
    He lightly brushed his palm against her curls. "I know. Be strong."  
  
-- I'm never gonna dance again,  
  
Guilty feet have got no rhythm,  
  
Though it's easy to pretend,  
  
I know you're not a fool,  
  
I should have known better than to cheat a friend,  
  
And waste a chance that I'd been given,  
  
So I'm never gonna dance again,  
  
The way I danced with you,  
  
Time can never mend,  
  
The careless whisper of a good friend,  
  
To the heart and mind,  
  
Ignorance is kind,  
  
There's no comfort in the truth,  
  
Pain is all you'll find. --  
  
   
  
    Bonnie pulled away before the song could end.   
  
    "I love you, Stefan."  
  
   
  
    He hushed her with a finger to her lips. Lightly, he shook his head. "Don't say that."  
  
   
  
    "But it's true..." she murmured against his finger.  
  
   
  
    He didn't answer. Bonnie's lower lip trembling despite her will to stop it. She lifted her chin, looked directly at Stefan, and nodded firmly.   
  
   
  
    "Goodbye, Stefan. Tell Elena I hope maybe we can start over someday."  
  
   
  
    With that, she disappeared, and as Stefan watched, he lost sight of her small form as it wandered deeper and deeper in the sea of bodies. She was gone.  
  
   
  
      
  
        ***  
  
   
  
-- Tonight the music seems so loud,  
  
I wish that we could loose this crowd,  
  
Maybe it's better this way,  
  
We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say,  
  
We could have been so good together,  
  
We could have lived this dance forever,  
  
But now who's gonna dance with me,  
  
Please stay. --  
  
   
  
    Her  body fit against his as though a part of her was made for him and only him. Her blue eyes were closed as they gently swayed and blonde silky strands spilled over his shirt. Arms enveloped her, held her close against him and she could feel his pulse beating with her own.   
  
   
  
    But regardless of the sense of warmth, of cherishment, of pure and rich love she felt, there was still that lingering guilt. The shame and sense of unforgivable self-condemnation. Elena lifted her head, her eyes met his. Green eyes radiated with adoration and devotion. It only made her heart break more.  
  
   
  
    The song that drifted through the club made her want to break down. What she had done to this man, this man who had never done anything but love her and forgive her.   
  
   
  
    But he had done wrong as well. He had betrayed her and it had cut as deep as no other wound could. But she forgave him. Elena just didn't know if she could forgive *herself*.  
  
   
  
      
  
 -- I'm never gonna dance again,  
  
Guilty feet have got no rhythm,  
  
Though it's easy to pretend,  
  
I know you're not a fool,  
  
I should have known better than to cheat a friend,  
  
And waste a chance that I'd been given,  
  
So I'm never gonna dance again,  
  
The way I danced with you. --  
  
    Her heart was distressed and blameworthy. Her lust for another was her downfall. Repeatedly.  
  
   
  
    Guilty. She was guilty. Time and time again she had given herself away to his brother. Over and over she had refused to acknowledge the hurt it caused him. And he had fallen for her best friend.  
  
   
  
-- Now that you've gone,  
  
Now that you've gone,  
  
Now that you've gone  
  
Was what I did so wrong,  
  
So wrong that you had to leave me alone. --  
  
    Would things be the same again? *Could* things? Even if he forgave her, and she herself, could Bonnie ever be in their lives again? Could Damon?  
  
   
  
    Bonnie had left tonight. Damon could be anywhere.  
  
   
  
     Words were left unspoken to these two. Silent accusations remained in the air between them all, each and every one of them.  
  
   
  
      But as Stefan's lips met hers in a slow, sensual, passionate kiss, she had never felt so at peace.     
  
   
  
    /I'm sorry, beloved/ she spoke softly into his mind as they kissed.  
  
   
  
    /I know. And you've been forgiven/  
  
   
  
    /I love you/  
  
   
  
    /I love you, too. Always and forever. Don't you forget that/  
  
   
  
   Perhaps she could forgive herself after all. Bonnie on the other hand, would take some time. Elena had no idea of how long it might take her to be able to trust and allow amends to take place between her and Bonnie. She supposed one day she might be able to overlook it.  
  
   
  
    Right now, all that mattered was Stefan. He loved her beyond a shadow of doubt, and Elena could honestly say that her heart and soul belong completely to this one man and this one man only. The only exception being that a tiny part of Damon would always have a place somewhere inside, but she would never again allow herself to fall victim to his charms, nor allow herself to fall into his bed.  
  
   
  
    Her place was beside her husband. From this day on, until eternity ceased to be.  
  
    ***  
  
The song came to a close and Stefan smiled fondly. Elena returned it, lightly kissing his lips again.  
  
      
  
    "Let's go home."  
  
   
  
~*~ 


	10. Part 10 End

Musical credits: Jessica Simpson -- "I Wanna' Love You Forever"  
  
   
  
~*~  
  
   
  
    New York: 3 Years Later: 2006  
  
   
  
   
  
    "With this ring, I thee wed..."  
  
   
  
    The small yet elaborately carved gold band was eased onto her finger, the dark blue gem glinting in the lights of the small church. Silently, tears slowly traveled down her cheeks. But she was happy, blissfully so.   
  
   
  
    This was as it was meant to be.  
  
   
  
    "With this ring, I thee wed..." she repeated, hushed. His band was slipped back onto his finger then, as hers was moments before. Trembling lips formed a genuine smile, blue eyes resplendent with love, adoration and unceasing devotion.  
  
   
  
    Green eyes mirrored her emotions.  
  
   
  
    Her lips met his then. He could taste the salt of her tears as he was certain she could taste his, as he enveloped her lightly shaking form in his arms. He couldn't remember ever being so happy.  
  
   
  
    This was right.   
  
   
  
    When she pulled away, taking a step back, her heart was bursting with joy. "I love you."  
  
   
  
   Lips formed a smile, palms cupped her face softly, thumbs lightly brushing away her remnants of tears. "I love you."  
  
   
  
    As one, they turned to face the others in the tiny church where they had come to renew their vows.   
  
   
  
    Across the room, brown eyes met green and Bonnie smiled, truly glad for the two on the alter. No, she hadn't...wouldn't... forget what she felt for Stefan Salvatore, but his heart didn't belong with hers. It belonged to one person and that was Elena. The woman who had died for him and who had been ressurected for him.  
  
   
  
    Blue met brown shortly afterwards and Elena allowed the redhead to smile widely, accepting the simple fact that she had shown up as her apology. It had taken a while, but maybe, just maybe, they could beging to start over.  
  
   
  
    Stefan and Elena joined hands and slowly made their way down the carpeted aisle and out the large wooden doors. They descended down the steps and to the waiting car.  
  
   
  
***  
  
-- You set my soul at ease   
  
Chased darkness out of view   
  
Left your desperate spell on me   
  
Say you feel it to   
  
I know you do   
  
I've got so much more to give   
  
This can't die, I yearn to live   
  
Pour yourself all over me   
  
And I'll cherish every drop here on my knees. --  
  
   
  
    They danced. Ravishing Oblivion was as crowded as usual; however, news of the owners' "second wedding" had spread throughout, and the dance floor was left empty solely for them...At least for the first song of the night.  
  
   
  
    "Elena?"  
  
   
  
    "Hmm?" Her head rested against his shoulder, his chin lightly against the top of her hair.  
  
   
  
    "Promise me something?"  
  
   
  
    "Anything, beloved."  
  
   
  
    "That I have your heart."  
  
   
  
    "Always and forever." Elena lifted her head to gaze directly into his eyes. "I mean it, Stefan."  
  
   
  
    He nodded, resting his forehead lightly against hers. Elena sighed contentedly.  
  
   
  
-- I wanna love you forever   
  
And this is all I'm asking of you   
  
10,000 lifetimes together   
  
Is that so much for you to do?   
  
Cuz from the moment that I saw your face   
  
And felt the fire in your sweet embrace   
  
I swear I knew.   
  
I'm gonna love you forever. --  
  
   
  
***  
  
    From across the large dance floor where only one couple revolved around in a slow dance, black eyes rested on the moving figures there. So far, he'd left his appearance to go unnoticed and unheeded.  
  
    He debated showing himself. He had only come for one of them. And he knew she'd realize that.  
  
   
  
    No, he wasn't going to try and win her over. Obviously, that was over. Forever.  
  
   
  
    He was over 500 years old and she had been the only woman he'd let get that deep beneath his surface.The only one who had ever gotten behind his mask. The only woman he had truly allowed into his heart.  
  
   
  
    And he had to forget her.  
  
   
  
    But tonight...Tonight was an exception. He'd leave them alone after this, but he had to see her one last time.  
  
   
  
    He watched her, lips forming a thin line as he leaned against a back wall. Something gnawed at the edges of his heart as he took in her euphoric expression.  
  
   
  
    Well, he reasoned, at least *she* was happy...  
  
   
  
    After tonight, he didn't think he'd be seeing her again. Not with her knowing it, anyway. And as for his brother...Well, their speaking terms were on hold. Who knew how long?   
  
   
  
    But life went on. He had eternity to live, eternity to fix things.  
  
   
  
    Although, Damon found he was much better at screwing things up...  
  
   
  
    He found he was enraptured in the two on the dance floor and blinked. Tearing his gaze away. Obsidian eyes picked out a head of red curls on the opposite side of the room in the midst of other people.  
  
   
  
    Ah...There was another woman he'd toyed with. Another who he'd hurt.  
  
   
  
    He noticed her heart-shaped face revealed similar emotions. Heh, so they were on the same page...  
  
   
  
    /*Quella vita*...Eh, Red?/  
  
   
  
    Startled, big honey colored eyes widened and frantically, she searched the room. Found his eyes. Mouth gaped.  
  
   
  
    /Damon!/  
  
   
  
    He smirked. She didn't move from her spot on a barstool. /You came?/  
  
   
  
    /Si./  
  
   
  
    /Why?/  
  
   
  
    /My own reasons.../  
  
   
  
    A nod. /Do they--/  
  
   
  
    /No. And I'd prefer if it stayed that way. For now at least/  
  
   
  
    /Alright./  
  
   
  
    She seemed a bit edgy around his presence and Damon could only laugh. /Relax, Red. I'm not here to kill you./  
  
   
  
    /I know that/ She snapped.  
  
   
  
    He chuckled. /*Arrividerci, bella*/ With that, he withdrew from his spot along the wall and sidled up the steps to watch from the top level. He was careful to shield his mind.  
  
   
  
***  
  
   
  
-- In my life I've learned that heaven never waits no   
  
Lets take this now before it's gone like yesterday   
  
Cuz when I'm with you there's nowhere else   
  
That I would ever wanna be no   
  
I'm breathing for the next second I can feel you   
  
Loving me ... --  
  
   
  
    Elena stepped back with a fond smile at her husband as the song drew to a close, the last notes drifting and tapering off.  
  
   
  
    She gazed around the room at the horde of faces, some familiar, others not. Applause. Shouts of "congratulations" and other such things. Elena laughed softly, eyes shifting up to the level above where people crowded at the railing of the balcony.  
  
   
  
    Blue eyes picked out midnight black. With a stifled gasp, she blinked. The man she saw did not move, did not speak into her mind and she made no effort to do so either.  
  
   
  
     Instead, she offered an affectionate smile towards him and he returned it. But that was all she'd do.  
  
   
  
     Stefan, unaware of his brother's presence, grinned and drew her in for a kiss as they moved off the dance floor.  
  
   
  
      Elena gave into the kiss willingly, let herself plunge into the sea passion and the waves of affinity.  
  
   
  
      "Forever," she whispered against his lips, "begins tonight."  
  
      
  
~*~  
  
   
  
      FIN.    


End file.
